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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591016">the worst thing you ever heard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist'>animmortalist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brotps, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Hate Sex, lives of the rich and famous, tw drug use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:20:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pop star duo Clarke Griffin and Josephine Lightbourne are at the top of the world, but then their manager, Charmaine Diyoza, insists that they’ve got no choice but to reinvent themselves in the public eye. Enter Bellamy Blake and Gabriel Santiago. Seemingly perfect, yet struggling teachers. Clarke and Josephine have to fake-date their way back into the tabloid’s good graces while Bellamy and Gabriel cash in on the only opportunity to come their way. Hopefully they won't kill each other, or do something even worse, like fall in love.</p>
<p>
  <b>*on hiatus*</b>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Josephine Lightbourne/Gabriel Santiago | Xavier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Do it Well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello, lovelies!! yeah, I am aware this is yet another work from me, but honestly...you guys know I do what I want lmao. this fic really took hold and I haven't been able to stop working on it since it did. I just felt I had to share it while I was still feeling (completely uncharacteristically) confident about it. this one is gonna be a bit of a wild ride, but I hope you're willing to join me!</p><p>*chapter title is from 'Bad Girls' by M.I.A.*</p><p>sending love to you all. take care of yourself. take care of each other. 💞</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Clarke Griffin was little, long before she met her one-day pseudo-life-partner Josephine Lightbourne, years before she tasted her first hint of coke, had her first blackout, wrecked her first car, and stopped acknowledging her mom’s existence altogether, she dreamed of being someone special. Of singing to sold-out stadiums and living in luxury. Of being not only adored but truly loved. </p><p> </p><p>When she met Josie she knew they could do amazing things together. No, that they <em> would </em> do amazing things. Abby knew it too. And they did accomplish those things. </p><p> </p><p>The two of them just happen to also have a penchant for reenacting <em> Icarus</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Which is why they find themselves at the center of the next Hollywood Celebrity Scandal, not for the first time. Thus, Diyoza forces them each to take on a fake relationship. After all, everyone loves a comeback story. </p><p> </p><p>It’s the actual coming-back that’s the tricky part though. </p><hr/><p>Clarke looks blearily out from under her day-old mascara clumped lashes into the now blinding sun of her room. Fuck. She swears she put down her blackout curtains last night. It was definitely nearly pitch-black in here a second ago. Which can only mean…</p><p> </p><p>“Get the fuck up,” Charmaine Diyoza, her manager extraordinaire commands from the entryway to the room that’s twice the size than most upscale New York City apartments. </p><p> </p><p>She considers the consequences of murdering Diyoza right then and there. But she’s never looked good in orange. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” she drones out but takes her sweet time sitting up her a half a million-dollar bed. Complete with goose-down pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets. </p><p> </p><p>Apparently, she’s not fast enough, because Diyoza picks up a throw pillow from where it’s toppled to the floor and aims it at her head. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m getting up, fucking hell,” she spits out. “Must you always resort to violence when you don’t get your way?”</p><p> </p><p>When she’s finally in a half-sitting position, Diyoza walks over to her side of the bed and glowers down at her. It makes her shrink into herself for a moment before she remembers who she is. She returns Diyoza’s look with one of her own. Well, she tries to, rather. It’s difficult to manage when she feels like she might pass out. </p><p> </p><p>“You and Tweedle Dee have really messed up this time,” Diyoza seethes. Great. It’s gonna be one of <em> those </em>mornings. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke really doesn’t remember last night except for a few blurry bits and pieces. Not that she wants to admit that. So, she feigns innocence. For both herself and Josephine. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She forces herself to smile through the pounding of her head and urge to puke. “And must I really be Tweedle Dumb?”</p><p> </p><p>Diyoza raises a brow. “Of course, you don’t. God, your blackouts really are the charm to my life.” She scoffs. “And yeah, you’re Tweedle Dumb alright. You would know that if you hadn’t destroyed your short term memory with frequent drug use.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke goes to protest but then she produces an iced latte from seemingly out of nowhere. It’s as big as her head and exactly what she’s craving. </p><p> </p><p>“Knew I kept you around for something,” she says, accepting it and taking a sip.</p><p> </p><p>Diyoza shakes her head and her voice gets sinister. Even for her. “You’re lucky I don’t pour it over your head after the stunt the two of you pulled last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke ignores her and continues to focus on her drink. Diyoza goes to rip it out of her hands, but despite the hangover, she’s quick enough to dodge her. </p><p> </p><p>“If you wanna keep that hand, you better keep it away from my coffee,” she warns. </p><p> </p><p>She thinks using that tone will certainly lead to a fight. Probably a long one, filled with expletives. But apparently, she’s fucked up enough that it isn’t worth the effort.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough,” she replies. “But you make yourself decent and come out in five. Your other half is already in the kitchen, lying on the floor, it seems. She didn’t make it the five hundred feet back to her place.” Diyoza shrugs. “She might be dead, so I guess I better go check.” She turns on her heel and goes to the door, but shoots over her shoulder, “And five minutes means five minutes!”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke mimics her words silently behind her back with a roll of her eyes. Without missing a beat, she adds, “And I saw that Tweedle Dumb!”</p><p> </p><p>God. It’s like having the overbearing mother she never wanted. Or had to begin with. But she’s too hungover and it’s way too early to let her mind drift to <em> that </em> place. Really though, there isn’t enough booze or uppers in the world to make the topic easy for her to think about. </p><p> </p><p>She throws on clothes randomly, what she thinks is a pair of leggings and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. She even manages a bra. She’s very proud of herself. When she goes out to her kitchen that’s more used for parties than cooking, Josephine is sitting at the glass table, head down on the surface. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank god, you look as shit as I feel,” Clarke comments as she collapses into a chair beside her. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine grunts in response before she reaches out and curls her hand around a coffee as big as Clarke’s. “You’re my only true love,” she says to it as she downs some of the contents. Then she starts humming ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ by Rick Astley to the drink. Clarke almost laughs. They might both still be drunk. Or high. Or whatever. </p><p> </p><p>“Morning, girls.” Diyoza slams her phone and bag down onto the table. It makes both of them wince. “Now that you’re both almost coherent,” she considers this, “well, as coherent as you two can manage on any given day, we have some business to discuss.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t business wait for when we’re not dying?” Josephine asks. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” she replies, voice flat. “Because these days, the two of you seem to dance along the line between life and death as if it’s a fucking runway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Clarke points a finger at her. “We are notmodels. We actually have talent, for one, and there’s no way I would ever give up In-N-Out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Josie sniffs, finding a way to be annoyed even around the massive hangover Clarke knows she’s sporting. It makes her grin a little. “I take personal offense to that, being that I <em> was </em> a model. God, thirteen-year-old me was a hot mess.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke gestures with her hand and sips at her coffee, slowly feeling more and more human as the caffeine takes effect. “I think we are owed an apology.” </p><p> </p><p>Diyoza narrows her eyes and it makes her straighten her back without even thinking about it. “You know who is owed an apology? The owner of that club you <em> ruined </em>last night.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t remember that part. Well, she kind of does. Something with broken bottles and Josephine cheering her on and dancing on a table and maybe throwing a chair and—</p><p> </p><p>“We ruined a club?” Clarke whispers to Josephine, who squints. </p><p> </p><p>“It was Sanctum, right?” Josephine asks Diyoza. “Because I don’t give a shit if it was Sanctum. That dude has been out to get us for <em> years </em>so if we did ruin his club, he had it coming.”</p><p> </p><p>Their manager shakes their head. “I cannot believe this is my life, I swear, if you two weren’t a ridiculous pot of gold when it came to revenue, I’d go off right now and live on a farm in Iowa. Become a simple woman, lead a good life.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw,” Clarke gets out, sickly sweet and teasing. “But you’d miss us too much. Which is why you’ll never leave.”</p><p> </p><p>Dioyza stares her down for a second before she scoffs. “I’d manage without you, somehow, I’m sure.” Then she takes a seat across from them. “Enough with the bullshit. Clarke, Josephine, you’ve hit new lows. Which I didn’t even think was <em> possible </em>and yet...” She looks down at her phone and grimaces. “You continue to prove to me how wrong that is.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the damage this time?” Josie asks. “Whatever it is, you know we can pay so tell us already so I can go back to the kitchen floor.” Diyoza glares at her. “What? It’s very cool and good for a hangover,” she defends.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not only the property damage,” Diyoza says. “It’s the fact that pictures of you doing it, gleefully, I might add, are all over every goddamn tabloid in the country.” She slams a hand down on the table. It rattles Clarke’s coffee and she saves it before it topples over. “And this isn’t the first time you’ve been the stars of some-less than positive headlines. If you keep going like this, you won't have careers for me to manage. So, enough is enough.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes her head. “You’re not quitting.”</p><p> </p><p>Diyoza looks up. “God, if I could then I would.” She returns to staring at the two of them. “Unfortunately, I have sold my soul to the devil.” She smirks. “Two, it seems. But if my soul’s written away, then I’m gonna make sure my pay cut doesn’t get damaged along the way.” </p><p> </p><p>She taps furiously on her phone for a minute. Clarke and Josephine stare at one another. In the years they’ve known her, she’s never been the kind to say ‘enough is enough’. Only pay this fine. Apologize to this photographer. Issue a statement about something you don’t even remember doing. Go to some charity event. Return that tiger cub. But this time, she seems serious. It gives Clarke pause and fills her with dread. Who knows what she’s planning to make them do to atone for their latest sin.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s Kane,” Diyoza explains. “Apparently, he’s found two perfect guys for the two of you. And Clarke, we did look at everyone for you, not only guys, just so you know. Therefore, you don’t have an excuse to file a complaint with the mayor. Again.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine rolls her eyes. “What? You’re planning to fix our reputations by hooking us up with some wannabe loser fans?” She snorts. “As fucking if. I’d rather tank my career.”</p><p> </p><p>Diyoza raises a brow. “Oh, really? Because we could always leak that sex tape of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>To her credit, Clarke knows Josie won’t back down. Not at first. Clarke leans back and grins as she adds, “Wanna bet? One hundred grand that it skyrockets our latest single.”</p><p> </p><p>For a minute, she thinks Diyoza might take the deal, but she relents, “Damnit, you’re probably right.”</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Clarke drawls, smirking. “Superfans? I’d like mine with a side of some previous stalking, please.” She turns to Josephine. “It’s the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. Those freaks and their fantasies.”</p><p> </p><p>Diyoza retorts, a little too satisfied, “Not exactly.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s something about her grin. Something that makes Clarke and Josie look at one another with not only confusion but fear. She knows there are far worse things they could have to do than go on a date with some lame weirdo from Brentwood. She swallows thickly, needing coffee to chase the feeling down. </p><p> </p><p>“Then what?” Josie near-demands, which leads to Diyoza giving her an icy look. “Hell, Diyoza, tell us, alright? Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food before you killed it?"</p><p> </p><p>She feigns nonchalance. “We are going to solve your heinous reputation problem the way everyone knows how to. The only sure-fire way.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sucks on her teeth. She doesn’t like where this is going. Doesn’t care for it at all. If the way Josephine is staring down their manager is any indication, she feels the same. </p><p> </p><p>“Which is?” Clarke juts out her chin and crosses her arms across her chest when Diyoza still hasn’t elaborated. </p><p> </p><p>She grins, wide. Like a cat that’s just caught a mouse in their claws. “Love, of course.” She pauses, maybe more for dramatic effect than any other reason. “You’re going to be dating,” she looks at her phone, “one Bellamy Blake and Gabriel Santiago.” </p><p> </p><p>She tilts her head and silences their burning protests with a raised hand. They both know better than to push when she gives them That Look. </p><p> </p><p>“Congratulations, girls. You’re going to fall in love.”</p><hr/><p>Bellamy wakes up to his shitty Studio City apartment with Gabriel hitting him with an empty shampoo bottle. He sits up immediately, coming out of his drunken-led slumber. Thrashing around for a moment, he tries to think of why he’d be woken so suddenly. </p><p> </p><p>“Fire?!” he demands, from what indication, he has no idea. </p><p> </p><p>“No fire,” Gabriel confirms from where he’s eating a bowl of cheerios (that are almost definitely stale) from the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>Even on both of their salaries, the two of them can barely afford the ‘one-bedroom,' which is a generous name for it. Neither one of them even has a real bed. Let alone a bedroom. Plus he’s still gotta pay O’s college tuition, despite the major financial aid. Gabriel’s insistent on helping out, though Bellamy feels like shit for dooming him to the same existence. And it’s not so much a one-bedroom as it is a divided up studio lacking a real door. They got had, but it’s not like they can afford much else. And even now, they’re losing this place, which makes it feel like a palace. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy picks up the shampoo bottle and throws it at him. He dodges it, laughing. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” he exclaims when Bellamy opens his mouth to spew out a list of curses at him. “In my defense, I was starting to worry if I didn’t wake you now you would never get out of bed. Or, you know, couch.”</p><p> </p><p>He rubs a hand over his face. While he may not want to admit it, Gabriel might have a point. Though that doesn’t mean he deserves a Pantene bottle to the face. </p><p> </p><p>“God, did we really spend half our rent money on booze last night?” He groans as the memory takes hold. </p><p> </p><p>Certainly, he was drunk enough the previous night to make one bad decision after the other, but not so much that he completely lost control. There had been very few occasions where that actually occurred. From taking care of his sister since he was a kid himself and seeing one too many of his mom’s boyfriends’ relationships with alcohol being less than healthy, he knew he always wanted to have some control over himself. Even as he was letting loose. Gabriel usually was the same. But last night had been a special event. They were getting evicted, and so, had apparently been in the mood to celebrate. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we did,” Gabriel replies. “But it’s not like that money is actually going to rent now that we’re being kicked out on our asses by Pike so…”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s mouth twists at the thought of their landlord. A guy he had initially taken a like to. Then he’d found out he didn’t always uphold the best or most legal practices in the apartment units he oversaw. When Bellamy and Gabriel confronted him and told him to quit it, they were served their eviction notice with fanfare. It was pitiful, and they should’ve been smarter about the whole thing. </p><p> </p><p>Now, he doesn’t know what they're going to do. They barely can afford the rent here, and nowhere else offers anything even remotely in their price point. Gabriel doesn’t have any family to go back to in New York and Bellamy has O, but she’s at UCLA, and the last thing he wants is to leave her alone in the city. </p><p> </p><p>So much for being teachers and dedicating their lives to the service of others. Little good it was going to do him when he was living out of his falling-apart Honda Civic. Which, shit, he had forgotten to get gas for.</p><p> </p><p>“No word from Kane?” Bellamy asks. </p><p> </p><p>That’s their last reprieve. The counselor who helped Bellamy all through high school and then college. Made sure that he did something with his life, and that O would one day, too. He knows that he and Gabriel are struggling after the government cut their pay. Is trying his best trying to help them get any kind of work that would actually dish out real money. Bellamy doesn’t care at this point. He’ll work at In-N-Out. So far though, nothing’s come up. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel shakes his head. “Not since last week when he spoke to you last. Believe me, if Kane called, I would’ve woken you up earlier. And with something harder than a shampoo bottle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Bellamy retorts and he grins in response. He nods to the bowl in his hands. “There any of that left?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel gestures to the pitifully small kitchen. “Help yourself. Our final meal. How fitting.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts. “How the mighty have fallen.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t really have fallen if you were never up there to begin with,” Gabriel counters. </p><p> </p><p>As Bellamy’s eating his breakfast, and yeah, these cheerios are definitely stale, his phone rings. He sighs, betting it’s O. She worries about him, even though that’s his job. And she does give him plenty to worry about. Like dating assholes named Atom and buying a moped with the money that she saved waitressing last summer. </p><p> </p><p>“O, I’m eating and awake so—”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not Octavia,” Kane interrupts. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looks over at Gabriel and mouths ‘Kane’ to him. He perks up a little but he can tell he doesn’t fully believe it’s good news. He should prepare himself for the same. </p><p> </p><p>“Kane,” he coughs. “How’re you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m good. Abby’s well, too. I won’t ask how you are, given that I already know. Pike’s a dick for doing this to you two.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy swallows. Abby is Kane's wife of about three years. About two years ago, she fell in a bad way and had to go to rehab. He’s never met the woman, but he’s glad that Kane seems happy she’s doing better these days. </p><p> </p><p>“We’ll figure it out,” he replies. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s what I’m calling about,” Kane says. </p><p> </p><p>The smallest hint of hope sparks in his veins. He looks over at Gabriel and shrugs to which makes him start to smile. Even when Bellamy's had none, he can always count on Gabriel to have enough hope for the two of them. It feels good that even recent events haven’t destroyed that. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s an opportunity. From an old college friend. She’s a manager in town.” This makes Bellamy frown. While he’s willing to do just about anything to keep a roof over his head and O in school, he isn’t sure that includes waiting on the rich and famous. </p><p> </p><p>“Kane—” he starts to say.</p><p> </p><p>He sighs and Bellamy goes quiet. “Just let me tell you about the job...It’s a bit unconventional, maybe, for you two.”</p><p> </p><p>That definitely makes him concerned. The hell kind of position are they being offered? It doesn’t sit well with him, but he trusts Kane. More than he does most people. He’s done more for him than just about anyone. So, he owes it to at least let him explain the details before he refuses. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, yeah, sure. Go ahead,” he says, avoiding the questioning stare Gabriel’s giving him. </p><p> </p><p>“How much do you know about Clarke Griffin and Josephine Lightbourne?” Kane asks, speaking slowly. As if he’s holding something back. It’s not like him, but Bellamy goes with it for now.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks about it. Not much. They’re a pop duo that emerged about five years ago. O loved them in high school, but less so now since she’s gotten out of her strictly pop-influenced days. They’re insanely rich and even more famous. And they’re in a lot of front covers of magazines he sees as he buys his groceries. </p><p> </p><p>“They’re famous and rich and probably annoying in real life,” Bellamy decides to say.</p><p> </p><p>Kane huffs out a laugh, and Bellamy wonders if he’s met both Clarke and Josephine from his tone as he goes on, “You’re not too wrong, and you managed to get the basics. But, you’ll have to do a bit of research if this is going to work, though I’m sure their people will handle most of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?” he gets out, more confused than ever. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” he curses. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Well, you see, Clarke and Josephine need to clean up their reps.” Bellamy snorts. He doesn’t know much about them, but that’s easy to believe. “And their manager, Diyoza, that friend I mentioned, has a specific plan to do it.”</p><p> </p><p>That’s when Kane’s offer dawns on Bellamy. It can’t be true. Doesn’t even make sense. Why would two incredibly rich and famous and spoiled women want to use him and Gabriel to fix how the world sees them? </p><p> </p><p>He says without thinking, “Are you insane?” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy can practically hear the look on Kane’s face. All disappointment. “Look, it’s not an ideal position. But fake relationships happen all the time for publicity in this town. You wouldn’t be the first, nor the last.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want us to fake date two celebrities? Us?” He can’t believe it. “Surely, their standards aren’t this low. There’s gotta be a million actors who are lined up for this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Diyoza is insistent,” Kane says. “That they don’t just date anyone. She wants you two to move in with them. Form a legit ‘relationship’. And she was very specific about who she wants for this. Good people. Ones that the media will eat up. Ones who haven’t dated anyone famous before. She wants them to be with civilians. Says not only will it make their reputations better, but might teach them a thing or two.”</p><p> </p><p>That makes Bellamy rolls his eyes. Like just because you have money and live in a mansion and spend all your time dancing on tables with a tequila sunrise in hand makes you higher up than normal people. He huffs. It might though when he thinks about it. At least in this city. </p><p> </p><p>And the last thing he wants is to <em> teach </em> some rich princess about the ways of the common people. </p><p> </p><p>“I really don’t think it’s for us,” Bellamy replies.</p><p> </p><p>Kane admits, “I knew you’d say something like this. But Diyoza is giving you until the end of the day. Actually, I’m giving you until the end of the day. I know this isn’t what you imagined for yourself but think about it. This could open up a lot of doors. Not just for you, but Gabriel, too. And Octavia.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a low blow,” Bellamy groans. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m aware,” Kane tells him, and he knows he’s smiling a bit, sensing Bellamy beginning to give in. “But promise me you’ll seriously consider the offer.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will,” he decides. It isn’t the worst thing in the world, he thinks. And then is alarmed by it. But once the thought is there, there’s no getting rid of it. </p><p> </p><p>Then he wishes him some final pleasantries and hangs up. </p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy—” Gabriel begins, but he sees the hope and belief, and good God, excitement all over his face. He knows exactly what he’s gonna say.</p><p> </p><p>“No way,” Bellamy finishes. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel rolls his eyes. “We’d be idiots to pass this up.”</p><p> </p><p>He raises his brows. “I think we’d be idiots to do this.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy knows it’s a useless argument though. Once Gabriel believes in something or gets an idea for it, there’s no going back. Normally, he likes that about him. Not this time though. This time, he wishes his friend was a little less optimistic. </p><p> </p><p>“Then, please,” Gabriel spreads out his arms. “Enlighten me on what else we’re meant to do.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy goes to protest, a million excuses firing in his head. But then he thinks about what Kane said. About this opening doors for the three of them. He knows even if he doesn’t want this, even if it’s one of his worst ideas yet, Gabriel and Octavia deserve it. How can he deny this chance to the two most important people in his life? </p><p> </p><p>Dammnit. He’s doing this. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit," Bellamy breathes out. "Looks like we’re gonna be fake boyfriends."</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel claps him on the shoulder, victorious. “I’m sure they’re far more boring than any of the tabloids say.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shoots him a look and he shrugs. “Believe me, these types are never what they seem like on the cover of <em> People</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he allows, trying to convince himself. “You’re probably right. I’ll call Kane, tell him we’ll do it. Then I guess…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know? Set up breakfast with this Clarke Griffin and Josephine Lightbourne. If we’re gonna fake date, might as well get to know them first as just us.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel grins and goes to start washing out their bowls in their crappy sink. It’s sure gonna be a transition from this to Clarke or Josephine’s house. He looks back over at Bellamy. “Come on, man. You look like we’re about to make a deal at a crossroads. You can act a little excited. We’re gonna be like in <em> Pretty Woman</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest. “In your scenario, you do realize that we’re the sex workers, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel frowns. “Huh.” He doesn’t seem all that bothered by it though. “What the hell though? I mean, it’s a job, Bellamy. Plus, it comes with a house. Probably a sweet one. There are worst things than putting up with some spoiled rich bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy swallows. “I guess you’re right.” </p><p> </p><p>But he can’t shake the feeling he gets when he looks down at Clarke and Josephine’s picture in some magazine article about the two of them from that day. There’s something there. Though he can’t even begin to put his finger on it. Something that tells him he shouldn’t be running toward Clarke Griffin, but in the opposite direction. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck it, he thinks, what’s the harm in tricking a bunch of a paparazzi and gossip sites? Besides, Gabriel’s definitely right. They’re probably just a couple of rich bitches that couldn’t be more boring in real life. </p><p> </p><p>Let them do their worst. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Will Hate You Til Forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here's the second chapter! this one has the first meeting between Bellamy, Gabriel, Clarke, and Josephine. and it is one hell of a first meeting. </p><p>thank you so much for the lovely feedback I've received so far.</p><p>*chapter title is from 'Forever' by CHVRCHES*</p><p>sending all my love. take care of yourself and each other. 💖💜💙</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellamy looks over Gabriel, who shrugs and drums his fingers on the table, ansty, but doesn’t seem nearly as pissed as he feels. He can’t believe this, though really, he should’ve. It’s just like spoiled rich girls to pull this crap. To think everyone else is on their damn schedule. Which, honestly, he bets works most of the time. But even though it’s the beginning of summer and neither one of them are currently working, it feels insulting all the same. Clearly, these two women don’t give a shit about inconveniencing others. </p><p> </p><p>If they did, they wouldn’t be an hour late to their breakfast. At the bougie place <em> they </em>insisted on. In a private back room that Bellamy and Gabriel definitely don’t belong in. Where they’re waiting for Clarke and Josephine to decide to grace them with their presence. </p><p> </p><p>As he’s about to suggest they give up and bail, maybe go day-drinking, which they haven’t done since college, the pair come walking into the back room. Though, really, they might be strutting. He’s filled with disdain at the idea of it, but pushes past the feeling. They’re gonna have to work together here, he needs to try to at least be civil. </p><p> </p><p>He recognizes them both, and while they have similarities in looks, he knows which one is Clarke and which one is Josephine, even as both of them are sporting huge designer sunglasses. They take their seats, and it’s a wonder they can sit upright because once they take off their sunglasses, Bellamy sees their eyes are rimmed red and pupils blown wide. Jesus fucking Christ. They’re stoned. </p><p> </p><p>“Nice of you to make it,” he can’t help but snark at them.</p><p> </p><p>Josephine wrinkles her nose but it’s Clarke who replies, “Sorry, we got held up. Work thing. It was last minute, so we didn’t have time to call ahead.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel snorts and exchanges a look with Bellamy before he gestures to the two women’s eyes. “Yeah, we can see it was a real emergency.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke rolls her eyes and smirks at Josephine, who sneers and gets out, “It was. We take our drugs <em> very </em>seriously.”</p><p> </p><p>That makes Clarke laugh while Josephine looks at them, all smug confidence and ego, sipping at her water. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy goes to retort but Gabriel kicks him under the table. Right. He remembers they’re supposed to be going over how their fake relationships are going to work. This is a business meeting. Even if they’re partners refuse to remain professional, that doesn’t mean that the two of them can’t be adults about this. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of firing back an insult, he clears his throat. “Look, let’s just get to the point of this meeting, alright? We need to work out the details of how this is gonna go.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke flashes a look over at Josephine. Something like amusement. “First time?” Clarke asks.</p><p> </p><p>He frowns. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine laughs. “She means, this is both of you guys’ first fake relationship, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel nods but Bellamy wishes he hadn’t offered up that information so easily. Though, honestly, he knows it’s obvious. It seems sort of cruel for Clarke to even ask. Again, he’s filled with distaste for her, this time it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke clears her throat, pointedly, and tells them, “Look, this is our first rodeo too, so let’s just get some sustenance first, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy wants to protest, but then Gabriel’s ordering orange juice and eggs benedict and he no longer has a say in the matter. He gets an omelet for himself. That leaves the girls. He expects fruit cups or granola. Something that goes along with the idea of them that he’s already conjured up in his head. It’s clear that they’ve decided the type of people he and Gabriel are before meeting them, so he doesn’t feel bad for having done the same. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke clears her throat, again, this time shooting a smirk over at him before she tells the waiter, “I’ll take the red velvet pancakes with a side of bacon. And give me a lot of bacon, okay? Tell Oscar it’s me, if you have to, I don’t care. Just don’t skimp on me like last time.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine bites her lip before she orders off, “And I’ll take the Hungry Man breakfast special. With extra syrup. Preferably in a bowl. And if you give me a lack of butter in the potatoes, I’ll know.”</p><p> </p><p>The waiter is a little taken aback, but writes down their orders nonetheless. Bellamy knows these two have always gotten what they wanted. They probably have never even dealt with someone telling them ‘no’. He can’t wait until they iron out the details. The sooner this meal ends, the better. Though the thought doesn’t make him feel much better. They’re going to have to convince people they’re having a whole ass relationship. They’re going to live together. That’s gonna mean a lot more together time. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Clarke adds before the waiter flees. “And we’ll take a pitcher of mimosas and Bloody Marys.” She practically throws her menu at the guy and gives him a winning smile, but there’s a threat behind it. “So strong it burns your eyes.” </p><p> </p><p>Josephine nods and presents her menu with a flourish. “And make the Bloody Marys actually spicy, for the love of God.” </p><p> </p><p>The waiter collects their menus and runs off, a bit dazed. Bellamy can’t blame him. He’s only known Clarke and Josephine for a couple of minutes, and already he feels like he’s in the wreckage of a hurricane. </p><p> </p><p>“Is that amount of booze really necessary?” Gabriel asks. There’s a sense of judgment in his tone that he’s sure that Josephine and Clarke pick up on. If their matching glares are anything to go by, at least. Bellamy knows he should be trying to defuse the situation, but can’t seem to bring himself to do it. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s,” Josephine checks her smart watch, “almost eleven in the morning.” She shakes her head as if Gabriel’s a fool for asking the question in the first place. It makes Bellamy bristle. “Of course, it’s necessary.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shudders and looks over at Josephine, ignoring Bellamy and Gabriel. “I can’t believe it’s this late and we’re not drunk <em> or </em>hungover. That’s gotta be a new record. And one I’d really rather not repeat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ditto,” Josephine replies and they give one another matching grins. </p><p> </p><p>He’s gonna kill Kane. Their whole conversation with him sheds light on why he’d been hesitant to say much. On the way he’d spoken about the two women. It makes so much more sense now. They’re nightmares, and Kane knew it. He sent them into a lion’s den without so much of a warning. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snorts and says before he can stop himself, “What a raving review of what I’m sure are two very full lives. You really outdo everything the tabloids say about you. I thought you wouldn’t live up to the hype, but apparently, it’s so much worse.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine flicks her eyes up and down as if she’s assessing just how worthless he is to her. Whatever. She’s a spoiled brat. And perhaps an alcoholic. The last thing he cares about is what she thinks of him. </p><p> </p><p>It’s Clarke who ends up tearing into them though, scoffing. “Listen here, Mr. High and Mighty, we don’t give a shit if you think we’re the worst thing to happen to pop music and stardom since Britney Spears’ head shaving incident.” </p><p> </p><p>She brushes a lock of blonde hair behind her ears and grins widely at him. “As if the opinions of two broke losers matters to us. Please. Spare us the crap. Let’s just...As you said, get down to business.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Gabriel cuts in before Bellamy can retort. “Let’s settle the basics first, and then we get into the details of how this is gonna go.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s probably for the best, but Bellamy’s still itching to go after Clarke. It’s not only the obvious things, either. That stuff: the rich, snobby, spoiled crap, he already expected and knew all about her. Not that it still doesn’t bother the hell out of him. Do they have to be so completely insufferable? He doesn’t get it. Why they’re choosing, because he does believe it’s a choice, to behave this way. They have the world before them, kneeling, really. They could do anything with their lives. Instead, they’re getting drunk and high and ruining themselves and everyone or everything they touch. </p><p> </p><p>His and Gabriel’s entire lives have been about overcoming adversity. About rising through the cracks of access and opportunity. And to see two people who have <em> everything </em> and yet use it for <em> nothing </em>makes him sick. No, not sick. It makes him so angry he can’t see right. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, first off, you two are gonna need makeovers,” Josephine starts. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy isn’t proud that it’s this detail that sets him off, but he knows, in some part of his mind, he was looking for any kind of excuse. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck that,” he spits out.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel gawks at him and kicks him under the table again. He turns to him. “This is bull, and you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>He swallows, and Bellamy figures he’ll protest, but instead, he nods. “You’re right.” He turns his attention to Clarke and Josephine. “You guys are full of crap, and we’re not gonna play your little game.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re kidding,” Clarke says. She cuts a look at Josephine. “Did Diyoza tell you they were this entitled?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine flicks her hair over her shoulder. “God, she would refuse to tell us they’re assholes.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke glares at the two of them. “More like pathetic, if you ask me.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stands up and Gabriel follows. “You know what <em> Princess </em>? We’re done here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” she fires back, not even blinking. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you guys can figure how to save your precious reputations without us,” Gabriel seethes at Josephine.</p><p> </p><p>She smirks and meets his tone with her own. “I’m sure you won’t be hard to replace.” </p><p> </p><p>Then the two of them storm out of the back door to the restaurant as the food arrives. He can hear Josephine and Clarke clink their glasses together as they start to no doubt down the copious amounts of booze they ordered. Fuck them. They’re the pathetic ones, not him and Gabriel. He’s never been called pathetic before to his face, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t felt it. Clarke’s words ring true, more than he even wants to admit to himself. And especially not to anyone else. The only person who really knows about that kind of shit is Gabriel, and that friendship was forged in blood and sweat and tears. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy knows he isn’t the most successful person ever. But he thought he might be worth <em> something </em> . He sure as hell doesn’t think Clarke Griffin, of all people, should be the judge of who is and isn’t. She acts like she has the right though. Like she knows him, even though he’s not even sure she remembers his name. Well, screw her. She doesn’t know <em> a thing </em>. If he got anything from that meeting, it’s that he’s sure of that fact. </p><p> </p><p>His whole life, he’d been trying to make something of himself. Not just for him. For Octavia. But also...For everyone else, too. For all the people who believed he couldn’t do it. He wants to show them that he can. That he’s more than capable. Just for a moment in his life, he thought he had. Then he lost almost all of that feeling. And to top it all off, Clarke Griffin has swooped in and taken what little remained of it. </p><p> </p><p>They get half a block down the street before Gabriel stops them.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Bellamy asks, but he can already see what Gabriel’s gonna say before he says it. “No way,” he starts, but he cuts him off.</p><p> </p><p>“We have to go back.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s lost it, really. That’s the only explanation. There’s no way that he can be saying what he’s hearing. When the two of them walked out, he thought they were in agreement. They were going to go down, but at least they would still have their dignity intact. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you kidding me?” Bellamy demands. “We can’t go back in there. You heard them. They don’t respect us and they never will. We don’t need them.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel sighs. “You know that’s not true.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sucks on his teeth. “It could be true. They probably need us more than we need them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” he allows. “But that doesn’t mean that we <em> don’t </em>need them. And as much as you know I’d love to keep going and never speak to Josephine Lightbourne or Clarke Griffin again, you know that can’t happen. Not if we’re gonna make it.” He shoves at Bellamy to get him to really pay attention. “Not if Octavia’s gonna make it.”</p><p> </p><p>He knows then that Gabriel’s got him. If he wasn’t his best friend, Bellamy would hate him for it. How dare he? But then, didn’t he already sacrifice so much to help Bellamy and O? Is he really in a position to demand he walk away from a much-needed pay day? An opportunity to save both their asses? He knows he isn’t. </p><p> </p><p>The mention of his sister makes him wince, which he knows was the reason Gabriel brought her up. “Low blow,” he tells him. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel shrugs. “It’s working though, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Reluctantly, he nods. “Yeah, it’s working. I guess. Maybe. Kind of.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel gives him an incredulous look before replying, “We have to do this, Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do we?” he asks. “Because, honestly, I think I might rather try and find work as a stripper.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel laughs and shakes his head. “Please. As if you even have the moves. Me, on the other hand, I can do just fine.” Bellamy rolls his eyes and he relents, “Fine, fine, we’re both fucked. Happy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” he says, feeling just a bit satisfied. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, come on,” Gabriel claps him on the shoulder. “Let's get back in there before they’re passed out at the table.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy huffs, “I think that ship might’ve already sailed.”</p><p> </p><p>But he follows him back to the restaurant. It isn’t easy for either one to show it, but he’s grateful for having him around. And for this disaster. At least if they’re going to Hell with Clarke and Josephine, they’ll have each other on the trip down. </p><hr/><p>“Diyoza’s gonna really kill us this time,” Josephine grumbles while she drains her Bloody Mary. “I mean, I’m worried she’ll go all ax-murder on us.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sighs, still fuming from the fight with Bellamy and Gabriel. “It’s not our fault she tried to set us up with a couple of judgmental pricks. I mean, what the hell was she thinking?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine waves a hand. “Who knows. Maybe she screwed this Kane dude in high school or something.” Clarke laughs and she goes on, “I’m serious, dude! It’s the only explanation for why she would do such an idiotic move. Either that or she’s been dipping into your coke stash.”</p><p> </p><p>“She wouldn’t do that, right?” Clarke asks, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“Probably not. I think she finds herself above that sort of thing,” Josie dismisses.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s a bit more at ease at that. Still, she’s definitely gonna check her supply once she gets back to her place. Diyoza definitely isn’t above stealing it in some attempt to clean up her reputation. </p><p> </p><p>“But what are we gonna do, Clarke? Because I sure as hell am not going to grovel after them,” she says.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods, in total agreement. “Hell if I am either.” She huffs. “We wait it out.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re serious?” Josephine demands. She gestures to the door of the back room. “They stormed out like in some cheesy after school special. You really think they’re going to come crawling back?”</p><p> </p><p>She hesitates since she does have a point. But no, she’s confident in her assessment of Bellamy. Of both of them. “Yes, they are.” Clarke sips at her mimosa. “Because whether they like it or not, they need us. Probably more than we need them.”</p><p> </p><p>“You really believe that?” she asks. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods, feeling more confident as the moment stretches on, even as Bellamy and Gabriel don’t return. “I do.”</p><p> </p><p>The doubt does start in though, after a minute or so. This isn’t how she imagined things going. She figured the regret, and the realization, and the acknowledgment of defeat would be immediate. But as the moment goes on, she worries maybe she shouldn’t be as confident as she is. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s about to make another cruel comment about the two men, when Josephine smirks beside her. </p><p> </p><p>“Turns out you were right,” Josie says. “Hello, boys,” she greets as they come through the back door. </p><p> </p><p>The two shoot her a glare but take their seats.</p><p> </p><p>“We should eat,” Clarke proposes, unable to conceal her smile, feeling so victorious. “You know, before it gets cold.”</p><p> </p><p>For a second, she thinks that that little comment might send them out once more. But whatever they say during a silent communication between the two of them, they ultimately remain in their seats. She spears a piece of pancake and chews, still grinning. This is awesome. She’s awesome. She doesn’t know why she ever doubted herself. </p><p> </p><p>And even as they’re eating, there’s still plenty of booze, thank god. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke pours herself a healthy glass of Blood Mary. “Want some?” she asks Bellamy. </p><p> </p><p>He makes a face, but accepts the pitcher and pours himself some. Gabriel does the same. Though they’re not nearly as full as Clarke or Josie’s glasses. </p><p> </p><p>“To getting this the fuck over with as quickly as possible.” Josephine holds up her glass and then gives them a look. “I think we can all cheers one another, don’t you think?” </p><p> </p><p>It seems like the guys aren’t gonna play along, but they must see that Josie is going to get them to do it one way or another. They relent and raise their own glasses. Clarke puts hers to theirs last. She sips at her drink with eyes scanning both of them for more judgment. Just because they came back doesn’t mean they’re attitudes have drastically changed. </p><p> </p><p>As much as she’d never own up to it, now that she has some booze in her while her high is wearing off, she acknowledges Bellamy and Gabriel insults hurt. If only because she’s more sensitive when she’s high, of course. Clarke doesn’t like the idea that their petty little names and dismissals matter to her. But then again, <em> everything </em>matters to her. The only person who knows how much other people’s opinions impact her is Josephine. And she’s not going to tell anyone. Mostly because she usually feels the same. </p><p> </p><p>As they get into the basics of how the relationships will work, Clarke with Bellamy and Josephine with Gabriel (decided already by Diyoza and her team of PR) she tries to block out the negative thoughts. The endless cycle they bring. She reaches for more Bloody Mary and pretends she doesn’t notice how Bellamy shakes his head a little when she does. He doesn’t matter, she reminds herself. His opinions of her most certainly don’t either. But the harder she tries to bury the pain, the more it comes back. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke hates the defensiveness and how powerless she is to stop the way the words clench around her heart. They’re nothing she hasn’t read or heard before, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference. God. She’s gonna need a shit ton of ecstasy to get back up for the party at Murphy’s tonight. Luckily, it’ll be too easy to score. But she’d rather not need it. </p><p> </p><p>She hates needing anything. </p><p> </p><p>“So, Bellamy, what do I need to know about you?” she asks once the logistics are over and done with, keeping her tone clipped but not necessarily entirely unkind.</p><p> </p><p>He gives her a look like a petulant child. “I thought you had people who would remember that stuff for you.”</p><p> </p><p>She breathes out through her nose. “Just tell me about your damn family, or something, okay? The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can stop being in one another’s presence. Though I’m sure it’ll be a real riot once you move in tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts. Well, at least they agree about that part definitely sucking. If Diyoza hadn’t made sure that them not living together wasn’t an option, then she doubted he'd even want to. </p><p> </p><p>“You tell me about yours first,” he challenges.</p><p> </p><p>From beside her, Josie tenses and halts her conversation with Gabriel. “I’m her family. Now, cut the crap and tell her about your dumb sister.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looks insulted at not either of them, but Gabriel. “Seriously?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Gabriel shrugs. “They were gonna find out about Octavia regardless. And like she hasn’t annoyed me like a little sister, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Octavia’s a pretty name,” she says nonchalantly, biting into a piece of bacon. He narrows his eyes at her. “I’m not fucking with you. It’s a pretty name, okay? God, you’re so defensive.” She grins. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it. Maybe we should stage a scene where you defend my honor or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine practically giggles. “Diyoza would love that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Enough,” Gabriel interrupts. “Josephine, you were telling <em> me </em>about your allergies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, thrilling stuff. Peanuts, who knew?” Clarke smirks.</p><p> </p><p>“Get back to telling Bellamy about how you’re gonna make him fight Cillian.” Josie actually pokes her. God, they’re children. She loves it. </p><p> </p><p>“Who’s Cillian?” Bellamy asks. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine grins, more than a little wicked. “Clarke’s latest <em> victim. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke drains the end of her third mimosa. “Please. We were fucking. That hardly counts. Not like <em> Gavin </em> for you.”</p><p> </p><p>She points an accusing finger at her. “You promised to never bring that up.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shrugs. “It’s just these two,” she nods to Bellamy and Gabriel. “Who are they gonna tell? Octavia?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy cuts in, “Or <em> People </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine narrows her eyes. “You won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you wanna live,” Clarke pats him on the hand, which he retracts, “I wouldn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“You two are some kind of science experiment gone wrong, aren’t you?” Gabriel asks, looking between the two of them as if they’re actually physically joined together at their blonde hair or something.</p><p> </p><p>Josephine simply responds, “We’ll show you where the aliens experimented on us, but it’s not a place that’s proper for public exposure.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke pops one of Josie’s potatoes into her mouth. “Like that’s stopped you before.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy then asks her about favorite foods though, and the two of them cool it for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>For the next hour, Clarke and Josephine continue to joke around in between their two conversations with Bellamy and Gabriel. But, in the end, they do manage to get most of the details. It isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy. For every fact she or Bellamy share about one another, there’s another insult or snide comment. She knows she isn’t innocent, but part of her wonders if he doesn’t enjoy taunting her for the hell of it. </p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t help that she knows he’s stupidly hot. Like lick his abs hot. Which she has done, but not with him. Even better, he seems to know how good he looks as well. It’s in the way he carries himself, the way he smirks at her, too. If she didn’t know how much she hates him, she would already be thinking about how to sleep with him. </p><p> </p><p>But it’s never gonna happen. Because they hate each other. And, she’s fairly certain he’s nothing but a judgy dick who thinks she’s some spoiled alcoholic. Honestly, she can’t even blame him for it. This thought makes her have one last mimosa before they head out. </p><p> </p><p>The plan is for Bellamy and Gabriel to move into their places tomorrow (since the guys seem to be desperate to get out of their current situation for reasons they won’t disclose). But before that, they have to go public. What better way than at one of the finest brunch places in L.A.? </p><p> </p><p>“Ready?” Josephine asks them as they get ready to go out into the front of the restaurant and then the L.A. streets. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel and Bellamy look at one another but ultimately nod.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you gonna do?” Gabriel asks. Josephine smirks and catches Clarke’s eye, and she can’t help but return her look. </p><p> </p><p>As the four of them walk out, Josephine makes sure Gabriel’s hand is in her own. Clarke’s got an arm looped around Bellamy’s waist. If the smattering of whispers and camera clicks is anything to go by, they definitely grab people’s attention right away. </p><p> </p><p>As Josephine and Gabriel walk out the door, Clarke snorts into Bellamy’s shoulder as her best friend uses her free hand to actually smack Gabriel’s ass. There’s a couple of laughs and gasps in the restaurant. <em> Well </em> , she thinks, <em> that’s one way to do it.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Bellamy quickly follows them out and to the street. It’s there that Clarke notices how many phones are out. How many people are around. The moment’s perfect. So, she lets her arm fall away from Bellamy’s waist. She reads his confusion as she does, but doesn’t let it get very far. As she knows he’s about to ask her what the hell is wrong, she grips onto his shirt and yanks him down.</p><p> </p><p>Her lips meet his and she ignores the way he tastes. Like coffee and Bloody Mary and peppers. Like something else, too, though she can’t name it. Clarke focuses on making the kiss look good. She knows though, that in some strange and hidden piece of her mind, it feels good, despite her better judgment. </p><p> </p><p>It takes him a second because she knows she’s shocked him, but he brings his hands to her hips as she deepens the kiss. After all, she isn’t the type to be shy when she’s got someone she’s out with in public. They break apart and she grins up at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to my world,” she tells him slyly. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We'll See About That, Won't We?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello, lovelies!! so sorry for the short hiatus I took for this story. I was going through some personal things, but I'm back now and back to being excited to share more of this story with you. </p><p>this chapter includes Bellamy and Clarke and Josephine and Gabriel's first outing as couples. it also gets into how they're doing fooling the people closest to them and the dynamics of the living situation. hope you enjoy it!!</p><p>as always, I am so thankful to anyone giving my story any kind of time. feedback is always appreciated, but please refrain from any hate. thank you!!</p><p>*chapter title is from 'Ain't Your Right' by Skye Ferreira*</p><p>*tw for mentions of drug use*</p><p>sending love and good thoughts to you all 💖💜💙</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke doesn’t care to prepare Bellamy for their first official public outing as a ‘couple’. He asks, once, while he moves in, but she dismisses it and goes and gets drunk at Josie’s instead. That might make her cruel, but she’s never turned away from that descriptor before. Besides, she thinks she really can’t be blamed since he seems resolute on hating her. Without even knowing her. Which is typical. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, it isn’t like she <em> cares </em> that he hates her. At all.</p><p> </p><p>He isn’t the first to judge her without actually knowing her. As long as she and Josie don’t completely tank their careers and slip away into irrelevancy, he won’t be the last either. She’s used to it, after all these years. She likes to think she has a thick skin, but she supposes even she’s not above admitting Bellamy’s immediate dismissal does sting, if only slightly. If only the way no one really likes to be insulted right to their face. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke would much prefer it if he insulted her behind her back, like everyone else. </p><p> </p><p>Which is how Josephine comes up with a way to, not make them pay for it necessarily, but put them in their place. Remind them of the game they’re playing. And, who’s making the rules. Gabriel and Bellamy gave themselves away too quickly, that first meeting. Because now that she knows he’s desperate to keep doing this, she figures she can have some fun with it. </p><p> </p><p>“Can’t we just, I don’t know, go to some restaurant or a museum or something?” Bellamy asks in the limo on the ride to <em> Mt. Weather </em>. The current hottest club. It’s known for the antique art hanging around the different rooms, smoke machines, and newest branch off of ecstasy, which people are calling chocolate cake. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine snorts from across from them and plays with her hair. “That’s adorable, really.” She looks to Clarke, grinning. “When was the last time we were even in spitting distance of a museum?” </p><p> </p><p>Clarke shrugs, sipping from her glass of champagne. It’s taken a lot of control to keep herself from downing the whole bottle. But she knows Diyoza’s serious. For now, at least, she’s gotta reign herself in. “Probably the photoshoot we did for <em> Vogue: Paris</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel frowns. “You went to Paris and didn’t go to any museums?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine rolls her eyes and responds, like he should already know her answer, “They don’t let you do drugs in museums.” </p><p> </p><p>Clarke smirks at her comment and then looks at Bellamy. “We have a reputation to uphold, so yeah, it’s necessary that we go to the club tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>He grumbles out, “I thought we were supposed to be <em> changing </em>your rep. Not joining in on the debauchery.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs. “Look, Diyoza may want us to not create as much of a scene as we normally do, but that doesn’t mean she wants us to hide away from the public eye entirely. This is a private party in an exclusive club in L.A. Believe me, if our manager didn’t want us going, she’d be fired.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel scoffs. “Please. Like you’d ever fire her. After all, who else would put up with you?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Josephine gives him a sickly sweet smile. “How about we move on to how we’re going to play this? I really don’t see the point in dealing with your petty little insults anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Gabriel can respond, Clarke jumps in, “We should have some answers prepared in case anyone there starts asking questions. Granted, they’re all self-absorbed assholes, so they probably won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“A characteristic you both seem to know nothing about,” Bellamy says, giving her a triumphant look. </p><p> </p><p>She wants to squash his face underneath her Chanel boots. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine cuts in before she can though, which is probably for the best. While she might not like Bellamy, might even be beginning to hate him, his face needs to look good for the cameras. It’s honestly her favorite part about him, given his constant judgments and snide comments. </p><p> </p><p>“Can we just make up some crappy backstories already?” She takes a deep breath. “This endless bickering is not good for my chakras.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel seems like he’s going to make fun of that, but meets Bellamy’s eye. Clarke isn’t sure what’s decided between the two of them, but they leave it alone. </p><p> </p><p>“Great,” Clarke says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let’s make up shit about love.”</p><p> </p><p>For the next ten minutes, she and Bellamy decide that they <em> did </em> meet at a museum. The modern art one, to be exact. Clarke was there in partial disguise and he didn’t notice her until she told him who she was. They got coffee and then hit it off. It’s not exactly the story she thought would be most exciting or funny or easy to convince others of, but she knows the chances of her and Bellamy meeting <em> anywhere </em>are almost impossible. </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Josephine and Gabriel battled it out between helping out at the Boys and Girls Club or a bikini bar. Obviously, Josie wanted the bikini bar, but she, too, eventually caved. </p><p> </p><p>Whatever. Clarke and her meet eyes as they pull up to the club and she knows what Josie’s thinking. They can win this round. Because they won’t be winning many others. </p><p> </p><p>Cameras flash as they get out of the limo, with calls for her and Josephine to look here or there. Bellamy drapes a hand around her shoulders, but she knows that isn’t good enough. So, she does a little spin before they go inside and fixes it so his arm is tight around her waist instead. Josie kisses Gabriel as they enter the club. Once there, and out of sight of paparazzi, they allow themselves some distance. But still not much. After all, they don’t just have to sell it to the cameras. They have to sell it to everyone else here, as well. </p><p> </p><p>She can hear Diyoza’s voice in her head:<em>You’re gonna have to do better than a cute little spin, sweetheart.  </em></p><p> </p><p>It’s the truth. So, as they walk over to the VIP area where a couple of random other celebrities wait, she kisses Bellamy, hard. He freezes for a second but eventually gives in. They’re flushed against one another when she hears Murphy’s jeers and wolf whistle. </p><p> </p><p>“I heard you had a new victim,” Murphy greets. He nods to Bellamy. “John Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke knows Bellamy’s eyes go a little wide. After all, Murphy’s fresh off an Oscar win and is one of the most in-demand directors in town. </p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy Blake,” he returns, his voice even.</p><p> </p><p>She rolls her eyes. “You know, sometimes they actually like me.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts and turns to Bellamy. “Do you? Or should I just start laying down the vague, yet ultimately empty, threats now?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy meets her eye and grins. “Sorry to say, I happen to only date people I like.”</p><p> </p><p>He really is good, she thinks. Better than she expected. </p><p> </p><p>“Date?” Murphy latches onto. “When was the last time <em> that </em>happened?”</p><p> </p><p>It was Lexa, which he realizes too late. God. He’s probably going to look all guilty now. Oh, well. Maybe she can get some coke out of it without having to practically beg like she normally does.</p><p> </p><p>“Who cares?” Josephine jumps in, taking a seat and dragging Gabriel down with her. Perhaps with more force than necessary. Clarke bites her cheek to keep from laughing. “Aren’t we allowed the grace period in our relationships where they think we’re perfect?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy cackles and shakes his head. </p><p> </p><p>Lincoln grins from beside him. “I highly doubt even you two could manage to pull that off.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine scoffs, pretending to be insulted, but she’s smirking as she twists a bit of hair around her finger. “Careful, Lincoln, your jealousy is showing.” She grips Gabriel’s hand. “This one’s all mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel grins. “Unfortunately. Gabriel Santiago, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>Lincoln shakes his hand while Murphy raises his glass a little before taking a drink. </p><p> </p><p>Lincoln’s most recent movie is going to sweep next year’s awards ceremonies, which they’re all quite proud of. He doesn’t party as much as the rest of them, but shows up regardless. Plus, he’s actually a <em> romantic </em>, the dork. Most of the time, he’s the one who makes sure she and Josephine don’t end up in a ditch somewhere. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Josie,” she says. “The night’s young. We gotta save some of our teasing for when they’re drunk and actually embarrassing.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs. “If you insist.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs while she takes a seat beside Murphy. Bellamy settles down beside her, still close. She situates herself so she’s practically in his lap. He might be a bit surprised by the overly done affection, but he goes along with it. It feels right for her to be in charge again. Though knowing him, it won’t last long. </p><p> </p><p>They might not have known each other for very long, but she’s sure that Bellamy doesn’t like being bossed around like he’s another one of her throw-away boys or girls. It’s annoying, frankly. But she knows that when it comes down to it, they need one another. So, she just has to accept it. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Lincoln starts, looking at her and Bellamy. “How’d you two meet? And Bellamy, how’d she convince you to join the madness?”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs, easy, and goes into the story they rehearsed in the limo. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy raises his brows at the museum part, but Clarke jumps in, “Diyoza insisted I take in some culture.” She waves a hand. “It was a lot better than I thought it’d be.” She smiles at Bellamy. “Plus, I found a really good teacher to talk me through a lot of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy gags but Lincoln says, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually like this one.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks at Bellamy, as soft as she can make herself, before turning back to him. “Who says I don’t? Stranger things have happened.”</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, they don’t have to go into much more detail, because Josephine demands their attention and goes into her and Gabriel’s story. It’s a little more detailed than her and Bellamy’s, but Clarke knows that it’s all Josie. Adding flourishes wherever she can. Even some details bordering on embarrassing for Gabriel. Hopefully, it pisses off him just enough. Not that she wants to create unnecessary problems between them, but it is sort of funny, messing with them. </p><p> </p><p>They spend a while drinking top-shelf quality stuff. Murphy makes jokes every so often about how inebriated her and Josephine will get tonight. To his credit, Bellamy rolls with it, not missing a beat. She’s impressed. Though she won’t be telling him that. He doesn’t need the ego boost. Nor does she want him to know she feels anything but disdain toward him. </p><p> </p><p>Everything’s going well, which surprises her. Somehow, Josie and Gabriel fall into easy affection. With the former making tender remarks about his work while he compliments their latest single. Clarke knows for a fact he hasn’t heard it. But the lies come easily off his tongue. She’s a little jealous that it comes so easy for them, while she feels her and Bellamy are still a bit stiff after an hour. </p><p> </p><p>Even though she wants to blame him, she can’t entirely. Unlike Josephine, she’s never been as good as playing pretend when it came to her emotions. Maybe she’s able to suppress them more than her, but when she does feel them, they’re all too apparent. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never seen you so awkward with someone who you're screwing,” Murphy comments, as nonchalant as possible, when they have another round brought over. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke almost chokes on her drink. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy saves the day, which she kind of hates, but can’t help but be grateful for. </p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, she’s not when we’re alone,” he says, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that so?” Murphy asks, eyebrows raised in intrigue. </p><p> </p><p>She leans against Bellamy and smirks at Murphy. “I’d invite you to join us, but I think your brain would explode.”</p><p> </p><p>Then she turns to Bellamy and kisses him for good measure. It’s different than their other kisses, but she can’t figure out why. The alcohol starts to get to her after that, and she doesn’t dwell on the thought before it disappears. </p><p> </p><p>As the night goes on, it does get easier. Somehow, Bellamy suspects her discomfort. Clarke has no idea how or why, but he doesn’t push. Only increases subtle touches and displays that couples would normally do. In response, she gears it up a bit, feeling more comfortable with all of it than she thought she ever would. </p><p> </p><p>Everything’s going surprisingly well. She should know that, of course, it couldn’t last. Not when her and Josephine are involved. She used to think they might be cursed or some shit. But now, she knows it’s all them. Not that she lets herself think about that all too often. It’s pathetic. And if she’s being honest, it makes her sad, too. </p><p> </p><p>Things go downhill when Murphy suggests heading to the bathroom. Clarke understands his meaning, but he still lays it on thick with a finger tapping his nose. Lincoln rolls his eyes but says nothing. He’s used to this. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine immediately bounds up, only to be halted by Gabriel’s hand. </p><p> </p><p>“You think that’s a good idea?” he asks, wary. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine looks over at Clarke, eyebrows raised, as if to say: <em> Can you believe this? </em></p><p> </p><p>She smirks. Honestly, she thought the guys would know better. After all, they’ve been so quick to judge them with everything else. Surely, <em> this </em>doesn’t come as a surprise. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy scoffs. “Do you two even know them?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke clears her throat. “It’s no big deal.” She smooths the crease between Bellamy’s brows, and she’s positive he hates her for it. “Relax, babe.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine plays it off like Gabriel’s kidding, which Clarke should’ve thought of, it’s so genius. “He’s just playing you,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Aren’t you?” she asks Gabriel.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke notices the stiffness in his tone when he replies, “‘Course, Jose, you know me. I would never judge.” He forces out a tight smile.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy frowns and Lincoln takes a pointed sip from his drink, launching into a conversation with Luna about her photoshoot next week. To prevent a complete breakdown of the situation, Clarke stands up, intervening.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on.” She loops an arm through Josephine’s. Turning to face Murphy, she adds, “We do need you, too, unfortunately.”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head, grinning. “Like this is the only reason you keep me around.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine snorts. “Well, it’s not for your natural musk. Or your attempts at banter.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy simply shrugs. “Whatever you need to tell yourself babe.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs, only faking it a little. She looks at Bellamy. “We’ll be back in a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, they leave them. Hopefully, they’ll manage to not cause any more damage than they already have. Clarke doesn’t know why it’s coke, of all things, that makes them even more judgmental than normal. Well, she does think it might have to do with the fact that their job is to help them clean up their act. But did they seriously think it’d be that easy? Clarke and Josephine have never gone down without a fight, even against Diyoza. They aren’t going to start now for a couple of randoms. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as they get to the bathroom, Murphy stares them down.</p><p> </p><p>“Any year now,” Clarke remarks, gesturing to his jacket. Josephine’s already taken out a credit card. </p><p> </p><p>He points a finger at her and then Josephine. She doesn’t like the look in his eye. All triumphant, like he’s already won a game she didn’t realize they were playing. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Josephine asks, eyeing him warily. </p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it the minute those pictures of you first surfaced.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about now?” Clarke questions, going for nonchalance as she examines her nails. She looks up at him. “The obsession when it comes to us is becoming a bit much, wouldn’t you agree?”</p><p> </p><p>“Obsession?” he repeats. “No, no. This is <em> too good</em>. How’d Diyoza convince you to actually do it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do what?” Josephine plays innocent.</p><p> </p><p>But Clarke knows there isn’t any use. Murphy, somehow, has figured it out. Fucking hell. They’re screwed. He might as well go out and tell everyone in the club plus the paparazzi outside. </p><p> </p><p>Her worst fears are confirmed when he responds, “Have a fake relationship with a normal person.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke scoffs, but she knows he knows he has them. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t even try to deny it.” He’s so smug, she could punch him. “It’s obvious. Honestly, I don’t know if I should be impressed you managed to make it this far, which really, isn’t that far at all. Or if ashamed that I didn’t put it together the minute you told me you met at a museum.” He looks at Clarke, still smirking. “Or the Boys and Girls Club.” He raises his brows at Josephine and tsks his tongue against his teeth. “Seriously, do they even know you at all?”</p><p> </p><p>She and Josephine look at one another. They could try to lie their way through this, but Murphy’s always had a way of seeing through them. How could they think this time would be any different? Screw it, she thinks. Might as well have at least one person other than them who knows the truth. </p><p> </p><p>If nothing else, then so that they have someone to complain to. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Josephine grumbles out. “You might be just the slightest bit correct in your assumption.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts. “That's all you got?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a dick,” Clarke shoots at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” he allows. “But one adapt at picking up on social cues. And bordering-on hatred, if the way the four of you were acting around each other is any indication.”</p><p> </p><p>She tries to not reveal too much. “We don’t hate them. We’re apathetic, at best.”</p><p> </p><p>Of course, because he’s Murphy, he doesn’t buy it for a second. “Try to say that with a little more malice, I dare you.”</p><p> </p><p>She crosses her arms over her chest. “It isn’t that bad.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy looks at Josie, who caves, much to Clarke’s disdain. “Okay, yes, we all despise each other. Happy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tickled,” Murphy replies. Then he rubs his hand together and has a smile on his face so wide and smug it’s devilish. “Now, how about we get high and find ways of subtly pissing off your ‘boyfriends’? Not just tonight, either, but I’m talking about a full plan of destruction.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine agrees without hesitation, “I’m in.”</p><p> </p><p>It only takes a moment later, and a look from Josie, for her to go along with it as well. She shrugs. “It’s not like there’s anything better to do here.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy pulls out the coke after that, and Clarke knows it’s petty, but she does one more line than Josephine and Murphy. Just to spite Bellamy’s disapproval. Well, if he wants to be a dick about her life choices, then she can give it right back. </p>
<hr/><p>Bellamy’s going to kill Clarke Griffin.</p><p> </p><p>He’s only been living with her for a week and a half, but already, it’s enough to last a lifetime. </p><p> </p><p>Her house is <em> nice </em>. Though nice isn’t the right word for it. But he isn’t sure there are words to describe her beachfront mansion. It’s clean and perfect and clearly built for parties. It’s decorated immaculately, but he suspected as soon as he moved in that she probably hired someone to do that part for her. He runs on the beach in the mornings and somehow there’s always fresh fruit in the fridge. It’s paradise. </p><p> </p><p>But he’s never felt like he was living in hell. </p><p> </p><p>Even in the cramped places he and Gabriel have shared, he always felt comfortable and at ease in his home. Now, he’s on edge at all times. And it has nothing to do with the house itself and everything to do with his new roommate.</p><p> </p><p>At first, he tries to dismiss Clarke’s actions as her annoyance that he’s now occupying her previously solo space. It takes him a while, but he gets there eventually. It’s after the fourth day that he realizes she’s doing things to irritate him <em> on purpose</em>. Screw her. If she wants to play that game, so will he. </p><p> </p><p>He starts leaving his dishes out, but then he figures out that she has people cleaning for her, and that that isn’t fair to them, so he becomes even cleaner than before. So, he tries blasting music he figures she hates at six in the morning while he works out. That certainly works. And when he really wants to piss her off, he brings Octavia, Raven, Jasper, Harper, and Monty around. </p><p> </p><p>He can’t tell if she likes his friends or not. But he does know she hates how they dominate the kitchen with Jasper’s DnD tabletop. It gives Bellamy an excuse to finally let them all play again, even though he wonders if they’re a bit old for it. Regardless, it sure as hell ruins Clarke’s night, so he’s thrilled. </p><p> </p><p>The only issue is, he’s been a bit obvious around his friends.</p><p> </p><p>One night, when Clarke and Josephine are doing some podcast and for once don’t require Gabriel and Bellamy’s presence, they’re all hanging out at Clarke’s place. It still doesn’t feel like his. Not when it’s all pretend. It’s over pizza, with a Lord of the Rings marathon on, that Raven pounces. </p><p> </p><p>“Tell me again why you’re dating Hera?” she asks. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rolls his eyes. Their nickname for Clarke isn’t even all that fitting. But it’s cute, that they try to be interested in the things he is. Besides, he can’t really blame them. “I told you to stop calling her that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are we supposed to call her?” Jasper asks around a mouthful of popcorn. “Medusa was a badass. Hera at least, like, went after innocents.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs. “She’s my girlfriend I—”</p><p> </p><p>“And you,” his sister looks at Gabriel. “Look, I know our singular date didn’t work out, but are you so desperate you’ve got to date <em> Josephine</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel sighs. “I thought we agreed to never mention that ‘date’," which he puts in air quotes, "again?”</p><p> </p><p>O stares him down. “You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel goes to launch into some kind of excuse for their situation, but before he can, he’s interrupted. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what I think?” Raven proposes.</p><p> </p><p>Octavia gestures with a hand. “Please, do tell.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy thinks he knows where she’s going with this even before she says anything. Dread fills him and he exchanges a look with Gabriel. Which Raven picks up on, because of course, she does. They really believed they could pull this off. God. The gloating is going to be unprecedented, he just knows it.</p><p> </p><p>While he’s certainly not looking forward to that, at least he’s prepared when Raven goes on. </p><p> </p><p>“You two are faking your way to the top,” she says, and Bellamy swallows. She grins, victorious. “I’m so right aren’t I?” She starts talking faster. “You’re playing pretend with good ole Josie and Clarke?” She leans in. “Not that I blame you, I mean, look at this place. I bet they’re paying gold.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel raises a finger and for a moment Bellamy hopes that he’ll have some brilliant excuse. That they’ll manage to convince their friends that they really are dating Clarke and Josephine. In the end though, he gives up and flips her off.</p><p> </p><p>Raven laughs and high-fives Octavia. “Harper, you owe my fifty bucks.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper shakes her head beside Monty. “I told you guys not to bring this up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Only because you knew she was right,” O retorts, shaking her head at Bellamy and Gabriel. “Seriously, my big brother,” she waves her arms, “publicity boyfriend.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy scoffs, vaguely offended even though she’s only stating the truth. “You make it sound like I’m her ken doll.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who says you aren’t?” Raven counters. </p><p> </p><p>He contemplates killing her, if only for a second. If only to preserve his dignity. But then he knows he wouldn’t have someone to call him on his, at times, moody ass and would probably never have gotten through his break-up with Gina if it wasn’t for her. She’s a smug shit, maybe, but she’s a smug shit who's a good friend. </p><p> </p><p>“For the record, I thought it was perfectly plausible you were dating Clarke,” Monty clarifies. </p><p> </p><p>Jasper nods. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looks at them, more confused and defensive than he’d been when Raven figured out the truth moments ago. “And my reasoning for it?”</p><p> </p><p>Jasper looks around at the in-home movie theatre they’re currently gathered in. “Duh, the house, the fame, the glory. Plus,” he grins and taps the armrest of the luxurious recliner he’s in. “Cup Holders.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper shakes her head, she’s laughing. “I thought there might be some secret side to her the rest of us hadn’t seen yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty gives her a look. “You’re adorable, but also, that’s really dumb.”</p><p> </p><p>She shoves him and Jasper throws a piece of popcorn at them. Bellamy’s perfectly happy with it. As long as the attention is off his and Clarke’s relationship, he doesn’t mind what or who they’re talking about. Or mercilessly teasing, depending on how you looked at it. </p><p> </p><p>And then Clarke walks in wearing nothing except intricately lacy lingerie.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s an adult man, alright. He can control himself. And he hates Clarke, obviously. But he would be lying to himself if he hadn’t already acknowledged that he thinks she’s attractive. And suddenly, with her in front of him, barely clothed, he’s forced to confront that fact a whole lot more than he hoped he ever would. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, wow, pardon me,” Clarke says, but makes no moves to leave or that she’s even embarrassed. If anything, she smirks a little. God help him. </p><p> </p><p>“Thought Bellamy was in here alone, talking to himself, he does that a lot.” She looks over from Jasper’s gaping open mouth to him. “Babe, you didn’t tell me you were inviting your friends over.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy returns her smirk with one of his own. “Thought you were out working, <em> babe</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can quit it with the ‘babe’ shit,” Raven says before sipping from a beer. </p><p> </p><p>He looks over at her, glaring. She ignores him. Harper coughs to hide her painfully obvious laugh. </p><p> </p><p>O adds helpfully, “Gabriel and Bellamy spilled their guts about the whole publicity relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke crosses her arms over her chest, which she really does nothing to help his current situation. She raises a brow. “Seriously? You couldn’t even last two weeks?”</p><p> </p><p>“Please,” Bellamy snorts. “I lasted longer than you. Your friend Lincoln figured it out as soon as you went to the bathroom to do coke.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sucks at her teeth and blows out a breath. “Dammit Lincoln and his critical thinking skills.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s Lincoln?” O asks. Bellamy shoots her a look and she shrugs. “What? He sounds hot <em> and </em>smart.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke waves a hand. “He is. Immensely.”</p><p> </p><p>O perks up and says, “You know, we really should all meet. I know you two are faking it and everything, but really, a group hang could be good for the press. Your friends, my friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lincoln’s lips, your—” Raven starts to say, but he knows where that’s going, and doesn’t really want to entertain that thought at the moment. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy cuts them off, “Can you two quit it?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s been watching the interaction, eyes glinting. He doesn’t like that look. Like she’s already imagining the havoc that her, O, and Raven could wreck on his life. He’s survived a lot, but he isn’t sure he could survive the three of them teasing him. </p><p> </p><p>“Your friends and sister always like this?” she asks.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he replies at the same time all of them, including Gabriel, damn him, tell her, “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s really got to get new friends when all of this is over. Start a new life with his cash flow. Maybe move out to Portland or something. He has a feeling though. That no matter where he goes, he’s never going to escape his time with Clarke. Regardless of how short-lived it's bound to be if the last week and a half is any indication. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, then you should bring them around more often,” she responds, placing her hands on her hips. </p><p> </p><p>He’s reminded that despite his clear disdain for her, she’s still in lingerie. Revealing and sexy lingerie. God. He hates himself for thinking about how hot she is. It’s rude, honestly, that he could want someone when he hates them down to the core essence of their being. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you mind?” he asks, tone as cold as he can make it.</p><p> </p><p>She takes note of it, and sours. “You’re no fun.”</p><p> </p><p>He grins. “Sorry, Princess, I save all the fun for people I actually like. Now, if you wouldn’t mind. It’s starting to get a little weird.”</p><p> </p><p>She rolls her eyes and huffs out, “Very well.” She grins at the others. “See you guys around, alright? And Octavia, I’ll be sure to introduce you to Lincoln.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, she turns around, exposing the back of her ‘outfit’ and struts out of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Did that just happen?” Jasper whispers.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse him,” Monty jumps in. “It’s been a long time since he last experienced a woman’s embrace.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, unfair,” Jasper defends. “And that was <em> Clarke Griffin</em>. Are you guys really not affected by it?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shrugs and drinks from his beer. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you actually had to spend more than five minutes with her, trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>His friends try to crack more jokes about it, or about his and Gabriel’s situation, but he deflects until eventually even they give up. They leave with final remarks about him enjoying his hellhole of a home. Only Gabriel lingers, pausing in the driveway. </p><p> </p><p>He hesitates before getting out, “I mean, they’re playing us, right? Honestly, I feel like Josephine is actively trying to make me hate life with her.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thank god it’s not just me. Clarke’s been doing all this shit…Like today, with the lingerie. I’m doing my best to wage a counter war, but she’s good at this.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel shakes his head. “This is unsustainable.”</p><p> </p><p>He knows that he’s right, but has no idea what to do about it. “How do we begin to make this,” he gestures to the house behind him, “anything that even resembles that?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel thinks it over for a moment before he replies, “Ground rules.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ground rules?” Bellamy repeats. “Like they’ll actually agree to that.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s convinced though, and goes on, “I’ve also been getting on Josephine’s nerves. We just have to hold out longer than them. If we do that, then we get to set the rules.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy wants to believe that he and Gabriel are capable of outlasting a pair of spoiled pop stars who seem to party more than actually work on music. But after only a week and a half of living with Clarke, he isn’t so sure. Maybe he judged her too quickly, that first breakfast. Not that it makes her a good person at all. Just a more dangerous one. The kind that he probably shouldn’t have ever gotten involved with in the first place. </p><p> </p><p>“You think they’ll cave?” he asks, needing to be sure.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel grins. “They’re not used to having people who actually put up a fight. Or honestly, people who don’t worship them and placate to their every dumb need. Trust me, they’ll call a truce in a week, tops.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy believes it, in that moment. He’s an idiot for it, sure, but he really wants it to be true. But even as he and Gabriel shake on it and wish each other luck, there’s a small part of him that knows Clarke Griffin won’t go down just because he isn’t enthused by her. He might despise her and everything she stands for, but he knows she’s got more to her than anyone expects. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p><p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79fqtqCg6Bc53Acsjx7ITF?si=OavfHS4TSwKlUbubi8Js9Q">find the playlist here</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Do You Wonder About Me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello, loves. here's an update for this story! this one deals with the continued stressors of the living situation for Bellamy and Gabriel, and a party thrown by Clarke and Josephine. which, of course, Gabriel and Bellamy just <i>love</i>. and note the rating change lmao. </p><p>*tw for drug use*</p><p>*chapter title is from 'Thriving' by Diet Cig*</p><p>sending love and good thoughts to you all 💖💜💙</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somehow, Bellamy manages to win the battle against Clarke for a better living situation. Begrudgingly, and with a lot of fanfare, Clarke agrees to never walk around the house in lingerie again. Especially when his friends are around. </p><p> </p><p>“They seemed to like it just fine,” she says with a wry smile, but he rolls his eyes and for once, she doesn’t keep pressing. </p><p> </p><p>That doesn’t do much to fix things though. In fact, he’s pretty sure it makes things a whole lot worse. </p><p> </p><p>Despite being victorious in getting Clarke to instill a list of ‘House Rules’ it seems she gets even more satisfaction breaking them than she does almost anything else. Not to mention the fact that she finds any loophole she can.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re lucky I haven’t taken up walking around naked,” she tells him and both Jasper and Monty one day over breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nearly chokes on his orange juice. It’s not a good look. </p><p> </p><p>Whenever they have the chance, Bellamy and Gabriel rant to one another about their respective hells. Josephine’s just as bad when it comes to respecting privacy. And, perhaps, might not even be human, but some strange alien species who’s allergic to clothes and basic hygiene. At least, according to Gabriel. </p><p> </p><p>They thought they were screwed before, but that’s nothing compared to the daily turmoil they’re currently living. </p><p> </p><p>Once again, they consider quitting. But Bellamy’s now dramatically different bank account makes him stop himself from calling Kane nearly every day. He asks Gabriel if they’re becoming masochists.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously,” he replies, and then groans. “Seriously, Bellamy, she put vodka in her cereal the other day. At three in the afternoon. <em> Cereal</em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke downed what must’ve been half a bottle of whiskey the other day. Before five. She put it in her <em> coffee</em>.” Bellamy shudders at the thought.  </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel shakes his head and leans back on the couch. They’re at Josephine’s while Clarke and her are in the studio, working on their latest album. Bellamy wishes they could go on tour or something, just to be free of the two demons. But their latest album only came out four months ago. For the time being, they’re stuck with them. </p><p> </p><p>He wishes he had work to distract him, but Gabriel and him are both on sabbatical for the next few months. He can only hope by the time he goes back to work, he and Clarke will have ‘broken up’. Of course, the teasing from his students will be awful, but not anywhere close to spending almost all his time with Clarke, and by de facto, Josephine, too. One of them on their own is enough, but <em> together </em>? Whole other level.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Bellamy’s ranting about how Clarke leaves clothes, all types, literally everywhere around the house, the pair walk in. He pauses mid-sentence, Gabriel grimacing. </p><p> </p><p>“Please,” Clarke gestures with a hand, “don’t stop on my account.” She juts out her chin and grins, letting him know that his words don’t get to her in the least.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t even know how that’s possible, but doesn’t ask. The last thing he needs is to know about Clarke’s ability to keep everything at a distance. Most of the time, he wonders if the only person who ever really knows what she’s thinking is Josephine.</p><p> </p><p>Not that he’s even thought about what she thinks. Not that he cares. Because he doesn’t. At all. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, her thoughts are probably consumed by where she’s getting her next high or alcoholic beverage of choice. Or how to outlandishly spend her seemingly endless cash flow. Seriously. She owns a life-size stuffed unicorn. Complete with a saddle. Where does one even find that kind of thing? </p><p> </p><p>He hasn’t delved into that with her though. Hasn’t really asked her anything. Which, yeah, sounds bad. They’ve been living together for weeks. But she’s <em> Clarke </em>. Infuriating and bossy and almost as stubborn as him. Also, unfairly hot, especially when she doesn’t care whether he’s shit talking her or not. But he tries not to think about that too hard. It won’t lead anywhere good. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of forcing out an apology, he scratches the back of his neck and says, “I assume you’re high?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine rolls her eyes. “It’s eleven in the morning. Of course, we’re high.” </p><p> </p><p>He can see her eyes ringed a little red and rolls his own. “Of course, because that’s obviously the picture of normalcy.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke scoffs. “As if your friends Monty and Jasper are any better.”</p><p> </p><p>For a fraction of a second, he’s surprised she even knows their names. But he supposes she’s been terrorizing them for almost as long as him. Though sometimes he senses that it’s a miracle she knows his name. </p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning up your image?” Gabriel bravely asks.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy gave up trying to do that about a week ago when he figured that the two of them are intent on ruining themselves. His pleas for them to behave differently aren’t going to change that. They’d probably be even more excited to break any rules Diyoza’s tried to lay down. More exciting for them that way. </p><p> </p><p>“Relax,” Josephine dismisses. “We are. Usually, we would’ve had at least one nude picture appear on twitter by now.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods, smug, as if this is some grand accomplishment. “Or, you know, trashed a hotel floor.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel and Bellamy exchange a look. In the end, the former raises his hands in defeat.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose you know this stuff better than we do. But let me know if we gotta go on some dumb picnic or something to balance it out.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine smirks and something suspicious sparks in her eyes. “Will do.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy thinks Gabriel gives in much too quickly. Far too quickly than he normally would. If he didn’t know better, he’d begin to suspect that Josephine’s managed to convince him that she isn’t worth completely hating. But that would never happen, he tells himself. He feels the same as him. Total, unmitigated disdain. Nothing’s going to change that. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and I almost forgot,” Clarke says, which Bellamy highly doubts. Despite being frequently under the influence of something, or multiple somethings, Clarke doesn’t seem the type to forget <em> anything </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re having a small get-together tonight,” she goes on. “My place. And before you even ask, yes, you have to be there.”</p><p> </p><p>“We have a part to play, after all,” Josephine gloats around a smirk. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel sighs. “Can we invite people too?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine and Clarke look at one another, and Bellamy hates the agreement that passes between them. He doesn’t like it one bit, and he knows there’s more to this than what they’re telling them. If he asked though, they’d just enjoy it even more. So, he decides to dismiss it for now. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Clarke settles on. “You know how much I just love your sister. Plus, I’ll finally be able to introduce her to Lincoln.”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely <em> not</em>,” Bellamy gets out.</p><p> </p><p>It’s no use though, the two of them are already laughing to themselves, and spinning around to leave the house. Off to go to god knows what. Almost as if the only reason they stopped by at all was to mess with them. This would be a surprise from anyone else, but he’s given up trying to predict their behavior or motivations for anything. Most of it seems to be pure spite. </p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be fine,” Gabriel tells him once they’re gone.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Bellamy replies, trying to convince himself. “I mean, it’s a couple of their snobby, asshole friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly,” he says. “Besides, Lincoln and Murphy aren’t bad. Luna either.” He shrugs. “They might screw with us a little, but there’s only so much damage they can do in one night.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nods, feeling more confident in Gabriel’s words than before. “You’re right,” he agrees. “Let them try to mess with us.”</p><p> </p><p>As it turns out, they’re complete fucking idiots. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke gives him a limo to pick up everyone, so they don’t have to spend a fortune on Ubers or eons on public transport. He throws a casual ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he leaves, not wanting to see the delighted expression on her face when he does. If he had turned around though, he might’ve noticed something a lot more sinister on her face, and had an idea of what she planned. </p><p> </p><p>On the way back to the house with Gabriel, Monty, Jasper, Raven, O, and even Emori with him, he hears the music first. </p><p> </p><p>Monty’s eyes go a little wide. Raven crosses her arms over her chest and says, “I thought you said this was a small get-together?” O looks far too pleased. Like she knew. He thinks for a moment the traitor might’ve, but dismisses it. As much as he knows she’s far more enamored with his current life than he is, not even she would do that. Jasper’s mouth hangs open when they pull up to Clarke’s place. </p><p> </p><p>People spill out of the house in groups, laughing loudly and sipping from various fancy stemware. One smashes a glass on the ground and a cackle rings through the night. Bellamy gets out of the limo and storms up to the entrance. On his way, a couple people give him a look. A mix of jealousy and dismissal while doing their best to suck up, too.</p><p> </p><p>“Great party!” a drunk model who just had a full spread in <em> Marie Claire </em>calls. </p><p> </p><p>Jasper salutes her. Goddamn him. </p><p> </p><p>Inside, it’s packed. There are glasses everywhere. A blunt here and there. What he suspects is ecstasy or adderall spilling out of a baggie on the table next to the door where he usually leaves his keys. He can hear people jumping into the pool and music blasts, making his ears ring. Bodies push past them as if they’re not even there. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna kill her,” he seethes as they take in the chaos.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll help,” Gabriel returns. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy knows this is just as much Josephine’s doing as Clarke’s. They were fools to think this was going to go any different. Absolute fools. </p><p> </p><p>Jasper swallows thickly. O looks around in amazement. Raven shoots him a worried look, which he pointedly ignores. Only Emori speaks, and even then, it isn’t much. </p><p> </p><p>“Holy fuck.” </p><p> </p><p>And then, as if she heard, Clarke emerges from the crowd. She doesn’t approach. Rather, she raises her martini glass as if to cheers with him and downs the drink. He’s never seen her so smug. Like a cat who’s gotten a canary in their claws, but hasn’t killed it yet. Before he can go over to her though, she disappears once more into the throng of people. Sauntering away as if she’s already won.</p><p> </p><p>Well, fuck <em> that</em>. If she wants to play this game, he’ll show her just how willing he is to stoop to her level. Even if it costs him this job, he’ll prove to her just how wrong she is to underestimate him. </p><hr/><p>Clarke and Josephine’s night is going splendidly so far. Just as they planned. Bellamy and Gabriel are pissed beyond measure that their so-called ‘small get-together’ is a rager. Maybe they’ll get in trouble with Diyoza for this, but it was worth the looks on their faces when they came into her house. </p><p> </p><p>She’s four drinks deep, doing shots with Murphy, when she decides to go make fun of Bellamy some more. While looking for him, she runs into Miller. Perfect. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Jackson?” she asks. </p><p> </p><p>Miller shrugs, and she thinks he’s already drunker than her. “Probably making sure no one drowns in the pool. You know how he is.” </p><p> </p><p>His expression turns soft for a moment, thinking of his boyfriend. Clarke understands, in some kind of vague way, how in love her friend is. That Jackson makes him happy, a steadiness he never seemed to have before they started dating. And hell, the relationship’s sure an improvement from his on-again off-again thing with Bryan. That used to land him in the tabloids almost as much as her and Josie. </p><p> </p><p>Still, she can’t seem to grasp what it’s like to love someone like that. To trust them with every piece of yourself. Especially the ugly ones. She’s happy for Miller, yes, but she doesn’t think she could ever do that. The closest she comes is Josephine, and that’s mostly because there’s no hiding herself from her. Sometimes, it’s almost as if she’s in her own head, rooting around in there until she gets all the thoughts she even hides from herself. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” she says, linking her arm through his. “You should meet my newest boy-toy. He must be around here somewhere.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean your fake boy-toy?” he asks, leaning in close so no one will overhear. He grins. </p><p> </p><p>She goes to make up some excuse but he shakes his head. “Murphy told me like twenty minutes ago.”</p><p> </p><p>Cursing, she gets out, “Dammit, Murphy. I’ll string him up by his dick.”</p><p> </p><p>Miller snorts. “Don’t worry, I think I’m the only one he told. He just wanted to let me know how to play it. He got distracted though, something about teasing Lincoln for falling in love with some brunette at first sight.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke narrows her eyes but decides she’ll let Murphy keep his penis. For now. Though she is pleased to hear that her introduction between Octavia and Lincoln’s moving along just as she expected. Bellamy’s gonna hate it. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” she allows. “But if he goes anywhere near one of those fake Kardashian fucks with this, it’s all over for him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if he does, I promise to help you out.”</p><p> </p><p>She smirks. “Knew I kept you around for some reason.”</p><p> </p><p>Miller rolls his eyes but sips from his drink as they make their way through the house. Finally, she spots Bellamy. One of his friends, Emori, is with him. She’s only met Emori once, but already, she’s planning to set her up with Murphy. He hasn’t had a decent hook up in a while, and she can tell they’d hit it off. Emori’s pouring herself a healthy amount of whiskey with her good hand. Which she told Clarke upon meeting her was fine to call it. She likes that about Emori, no fanfare. Bellamy’s drinking something clear. She swears, if it’s water, she’ll never let him live. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey stranger,” she greets, sidling up to him. “You having a good time?”</p><p> </p><p>He stiffens at the sound of her voice and she laughs. </p><p> </p><p>Eyeing Miller warily, he says, “Of course, babe. You know me, I love these kinds of things.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke can smell the alcohol on his breath. Vodka, if she’s not mistaken. Thank god. She doesn’t know if she could take it if he was that much of a buzzkill. Or maybe her antics are simply driving him to drink. Regardless, she’s been dying to see what he’s like when he lets loose, and maybe she’ll finally get what she wants. </p><p> </p><p>“Wait, Bellamy?” Miller frowns. “Bellamy Blake?”</p><p> </p><p>Something clicks in Bellamy’s head, because he grins. A real one. The kind that he reserves for his friends, and definitely not Clarke. It’s a little disarming, because, well, he looks nice, when he isn’t scowling. </p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit, Miller,” Bellamy says, and Miller brings him in for a one-sided hug, clapping Bellamy on the back. </p><p> </p><p>“You know each other,” Clarke says, a grin spreading on her lips. This could be fun.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Miller nods, “We went to elementary school together. Before I got that scholarship to that private school and my dad insisted I take it.” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, it clearly worked out for you.” Bellamy shakes his head. “I mean, I heard you were doing well with that app you invented.” He cuts a look at Clarke. “Though I am surprised you’re with this one.”</p><p> </p><p>She isn’t used to seeing him so <em> happy </em>around her. She doesn’t know what to do with it.</p><p> </p><p>Miller defends her though, which she’s grateful for and yet knows she’ll never tell him. Not that he expects it. He understands her, and what she can and can’t give. That’s her favorite thing about him, he doesn’t ask for anything people can’t give. </p><p> </p><p>He slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in. “You got it all wrong man. This bitch, this <em> my </em>bitch.” </p><p> </p><p>Clarke juts out her chin as the smile on Bellamy’s face dims a bit. </p><p> </p><p>Miller goes on, “I don’t know where I’d be without her. Definitely not here,” he nods to the party around them. “You might think you know Clarke, but trust me, you don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a bit of edge to his voice, but he lightens the mood seconds later with a story about the trouble he and Bellamy used to get up to. Jackson finds his way through the crowd a couple minutes later and kisses Miller on the cheek. Again, Clarke has that strange feeling. Almost as if she wants what they have. But then she reminds herself that it goes against everything she knows. Everything she knows about <em> herself. </em>That will never be her, so there’s no use even thinking about it. </p><p> </p><p>“You mind if I go try to get this one plastered?” Miller asks. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke grins. “Have fun, Miller.” She looks at Jackson and points a finger at him. “You too. No exceptions.”</p><p> </p><p>Jackson touches her arm and tells her, “How can I say ‘no’ to that face?”</p><p> </p><p>The two of them go off toward the kitchen, and as soon they’re gone, she feels Bellamy’s anger. By throwing this party, and not telling him, she knew it’d piss him off. That’s part of the fun of it. It was Josephine’s idea, but Clarke jumped on board without a second thought. Given how Bellamy’s looking at her, it’s definitely worth it. </p><p> </p><p>He looks around the room, at the people who all have smartphones and while are clearly tripping over themselves drunk, won’t hesitate to expose them.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we have a minute alone, baby?” he asks, smiling with ease, though it’s the opposite of the genuine warmth he had on his face moments ago with Miller. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke ignores what him calling her baby does to her. Whatever. It’s just a stupid word. Even though she’s pretty sure it’s his voice that does it. Still. Who cares? It’s not like it means anything. </p><p> </p><p>“‘Course,” she gets out, doing her best to hide the strain in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>There’s something wrong with her, truly. </p><p> </p><p>She lets Bellamy toss an arm around her waist, like he’s done it a million times. Like either one of them are comfortable with this amount of casual affection. In this department, she has to hand it to him. He certainly might not enjoy it, but he knows how to play his role. </p><p> </p><p>They make their way through the house, up the stairs toward her bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>Some people shoot them questioning looks as they do. Clarke plays her part well, too, she thinks, giving them all an answer that’s too delicious to ignore. <em> Yes</em>, she thinks to herself, <em> you bet your ass we’re about to bang in a house full of people. You think I care? Watch me kick it up a notch. </em></p><p> </p><p>One guy, some A-list actor she barely knows, holds up a hand for Bellamy to high-five. He ignores it, too cool for him. For all of them. He’s a nobody and yet acting as if he’s everything. And all because he gets to have sex with her. Or so people think. </p><p> </p><p>This is typical Clarke Griffin behavior though. This is what people expect of her. Maybe she’s allowed Bellamy to tame her a bit, to refrain from trashing clubs or dissing random celebrities in half her interviews, but she will never let go of this feeling. Of knowing that none of them really know her. But still giving them what they all want.</p><p> </p><p>The truth is, no one wants the real her. Except maybe Josephine. But Clarke knows she feels the same. They are not real people to anyone else. They’re a brand, an aesthetic. Something untouchable. There’s no use pretending or wishing for anything different. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as they get into her room, Bellamy locks the door behind her. He grabs her by the elbow and yanks her, though not entirely rough, into her bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>“Fucking excuse you!” she bursts out. “What makes you think you can man-handle me like this? I could have you sued for less.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” he retorts.</p><p> </p><p>“If you wanted to talk dirty, all you had to do was ask,” she tells him as he locks the bathroom door behind them. </p><p> </p><p>He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. Then he looks at her and shakes his head. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you fucking malicious or do you really just not give a shit to the extent that you couldn’t even <em> warn me </em>about tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs, not willing to let him in. Give him an inch. No way. Not tonight. Not ever. She’s Clarke fucking Griffin and he doesn’t get to talk to her like this. </p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart, it’s cute you think I give a damn about you either way,” she says. </p><p> </p><p>He gets up in her space, and she doesn’t back down. He might be able to intimidate other people, but not her.</p><p> </p><p>His lips quirk up a little and she hates it. “Then why go to all this trouble just to piss me off?” He raises his brows and goes on, “And this isn’t the first time, either. Seems to me that you give a damn an awful lot, <em> sweetheart. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>She’s seething now. Clarke’s met a lot of assholes, dumbasses, people more poisonous than her and Josie combined. But she’s never met someone who manages to tick her off as much as Bellamy Blake. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re an arrogant shithead,” she spits. “I used to think you were just a prick to me because you were jealous, but now I get it. You really think you’re better than me. Which is hilarious, frankly.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs it off. “That's the worst you can do? Of course, I think I’m better than you.” His tone turns colder. “Because I am.”</p><p> </p><p>So, she moves closer to him, standing up more to get to her full height. He doesn’t back away, not an inch. Usually, when she gets like this, people back down. Think that it isn’t worth it. Or they get out their cell phone and hit record. </p><p> </p><p>“You really think that, don’t you?” She pouts. “Oh, woe is me, I’m Bellamy and my daddy didn’t love me and my mommy made me raise my sister so I’m an asshole to anyone who is even a little bit different than me.” She grins and leans in. “Because deep down, you know that you would die for what I have.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re lucky Diyoza made me sign that NDA.” He sneers. “Because if I didn’t, then you bet your ass I would ruin you in a second.”</p><p> </p><p>The shit he could have on her...It wouldn’t matter though. Because even if he goes to the tabloids tomorrow, she will never let it destroy her. She’ll play it off like it’s nothing. Like he never even meant anything at all. Because hasn’t, not to her. Only to the outside world, to the people outside that door. It doesn’t matter, not really. Not when it would probably only make her even more popular. Even more sought after and talked about. </p><p> </p><p>“Go for it,” she says as if daring him to pull out his phone this very minute. </p><p> </p><p>She will not back down for this man. This man who thinks he’s better than her just because he doesn’t know the first thing about her. She knows though, he could have a point. And as much as she wants to ignore it, some part of her thinks he’s right. That she’s nothing but a spoiled bitch. That maybe she’s nothing at all. </p><p> </p><p>Screw him, she thinks, clearing her head. She can’t let him get to her like this. No one ever has before, what makes him so special?</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I will,” he replies. “Fuck the NDA. I think seeing your ultimate downfall would be worth it.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes flash with rage and he meets her with his own. Electricity pulses through her veins, through the room. She thinks to herself, <em> I have never hated anyone more in my entire life.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“You won’t.” And when she sees just the smallest bit of acceptance in his eyes, she smirks. “That’s what I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can still make your life hell,” he threatens. “God knows you deserve it.”</p><p> </p><p>She bites her lip and tilts her head to the side. Reaching out, she brushes a curl across his forehead. “Do your worst.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, she’s done, victorious. </p><p> </p><p>“I think we’re done here.” She gives him a sickly sweet smile, to show him he hasn’t affected her, not one bit. “Enjoy the party, babe.” She adds, a last minute thought, “While you can.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a bit of an empty threat. After all, she knows the reality. They’re stuck together. At least, until Diyoza releases them. It doesn’t matter. <em> He </em> doesn’t matter. She’s more than he will ever be. She isn’t loved, she’s <em> wanted </em>. And that means more than his petty insults and judgments ever will. </p><p> </p><p>She goes to walk out of the room, but he gets out, “Fuck you.”</p><p> </p><p>He stops her, a hand on her wrist. It sends a spark up her spine, though she wants to ignore it. The feeling won’t go away, even as she pushes it down, down, down. Deep in a place where she doesn’t have to look at the truth of her life. His skin on her skin leaves aftershocks in its wake, and even that deep place can’t conceal it. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke wonders if this feeling has always been here. Since the moment they met. She's been ignoring it because pure hate is easier. Simple. There’s nothing to prepare for the realization that it might not be all there is. That Bellamy is more than she thought. Without even understanding it, she knows he feels it too.</p><p> </p><p>But will he do anything about it?</p><p> </p><p>Unlikely. Though she knows he still hasn’t released her. In some hazy part of her mind, she understands what this means. That he must be realizing the same thing she is. That there isn’t just hate bubbling in their veins, searing their words to one another like burns. It doesn’t make any sense. Clarke knows there’s still disdain there, above anything else, even with this new feeling. This feeling of <em> want </em>. </p><p> </p><p>In the minute that passes between them, she goes back and forth a hundred times. She wants him to let her go. She doesn’t. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. In the end, she gives in. Let him make the decision for them both. Decisions don’t come to her easily. Josie makes them for them both, most of the time. It’s so much easier to be what others want her to be, to go along with what others anticipate and wish for. So, she hands it over to Bellamy, and she sees it register in his eyes as they stare her down. </p><p> </p><p>In one swift movement, he decides.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy pulls her to him by the wrist, and slams his lips against hers.</p><p> </p><p>The kiss is bruising and hot and unlike anything she’s experienced. It doesn’t make sense, and yet, in the same breath, it makes complete sense. As if everything that’s happened between them has been leading to this. His hands go to her waist and she feels them scorch into her skin. And then he backs her up until he pushes her against the door to the bathroom. Clarke knows, she does, that this is a horrible idea. </p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t care though. Ignoring the only bit of reason she has, she kisses him hard and dirty and swallows down the realization that she just can’t say no. Not to him. Not at this moment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p><p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79fqtqCg6Bc53Acsjx7ITF?si=y_W-iMgYQr6FbRHFiHddrA">find the playlist here</a>
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        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. My Body Tells Me No! (But I Won't Quit)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, lovelies!! I am <i>so</i> sorry for the long, unplanned hiatus this fic had. I have a lot of projects happening, and this one sort of fell away for a bit. I had such a fun time writing this chapter though, and I hope you enjoy it! </p><p>I have already talked about what happened in 7x13 in another story and on my tumblr, so I'm just going to say this: Bellamy and Bellarke are ours. We can write him and their story in a million different ways. We need readers and writers, and I so look forward to what is to come for this community.</p><p>Note: The first half of this chapter is almost entirely smut, so feel free to skip to the line break if it's not your thing. </p><p>*Chapter title is from 'My Body' by Young the Giant*</p><p>In case you didn't know, there's a wonderful initiative going on for t100 fandom called t100fic-for-blm. Learn more about us and how to prompt a writer or content creator with our carrd <a href="https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/">here</a>. </p><p>Thank you <i>so</i> freaking much to the people who have nominated me for a BFWA, including a couple for this story. It truly means everything to me. Whether or not you vote for me, please show appreciation for the wonderfully talented people in this community. You can find information about voting <a href="https://bellarkeficawards.tumblr.com/post/629284180021411840/voting-details">here</a>.</p><p>Find the playlist <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79fqtqCg6Bc53Acsjx7ITF?si=O7nRv4KqRgKgGlenlfpOZg">here</a>. </p><p>Sending all the love and good thoughts to every single one of you 💞💞💞</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellamy never imagined he’d be here, kissing Clarke Griffin. For real. Not just for the cameras or rich assholes. But, fuck. It feels <em> so good. </em></p><p> </p><p>It takes a second for anything else to register except that one, central, thought. </p><p> </p><p>Once more does though come into focus, everything goes into overdrive. He’s aware of everything about her. In a way he knows he probably has been from the moment he saw her in person for the first time, but who cares about that? Who even has the time to try to understand what that means? He doesn’t. Not when he’s got his tongue in her mouth and hands all over her body.</p><p> </p><p>She whines when he pulls away, but it’s sharply cut off when his mouth goes to her neck, probably bruising it a little, he’s so rough. She doesn’t seem to mind though, more like the opposite, and he places searing kisses along the column of her throat. She grinds her hips against his, sort of desperately, and he almost growls against her skin. Ever the opportunist, Clarke uses the moment to shove Bellamy away from her and the door. He steps away for a moment, hating himself for possibly misinterpreting the moment, but the thought’s halted when she does away with her dress, jumps up on the vanity, and grins at him wickedly. </p><p> </p><p>He’s sort of in shock, for a second, unable to completely register her boldness. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone quite like Clarke. He used to think that was an entirely bad thing, but now, he isn’t so sure. </p><p> </p><p>“You just gonna stare at me drooling or are you gonna come here and fuck me?” she asks. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t need to be asked twice, and doesn’t hesitate before taking her jaw in his hand and placing a hot kiss on her mouth. She wraps her legs around his waist and he grabs at her hip, squeezing the soft skin there. Clarke moans against his mouth and her hands go to the hem of his shift, pulling it up and off. Her hands map his skin, dragging his nails across his shoulders, his chest, anywhere she can touch. Her hands go to his belt, but he reaches out and stops her, wrapping his hands around her wrists. </p><p> </p><p>He pulls back and sees the confused expression on her face. Her lips part to ask him something. He doesn’t give her the chance though because then gets on his knees and she sucks in a breath, and if it isn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. </p><p> </p><p>He pulls her underwear down her legs and off, slowly, and looks up, watching her for a second, her skin flushed. Her tongue darts out and licks her lips. Knowing she wants him as much as he wants her is everything he needs in that moment. He kisses up the inside of her thigh on the right side, then the left. Trailing his hands up along the skin there, and she lets out a breathy moan when he teases at her entrance with two fingers. She’s so wet, it makes him crave to put his mouth on her, but he doesn’t. Gives her nothing to release the tension she must feel, just hints of touches. He gets far too much enjoyment from watching her want build.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Bellamy</em>,” she pants out. </p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” he asks, his voice low. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy mouths at her thigh once more and hears her stutter out another breath. He pushes his fingers into her and notices how she grabs onto the vanity. Her knuckles bone white. He rubs her thighs with his hands, letting the calluses on his finger pads give her feather-light touches. </p><p> </p><p>“I want…” she trails off. </p><p> </p><p>He crooks his fingers inside her and finishes for her, “This?”</p><p> </p><p>She nods hurriedly and shifts on the vanity, trying to get him to do the movement once more, he suspects. Well, he isn’t going to give into her demands that easily. He has her where he wants her now, and she’s going to have to beg for it. </p><p> </p><p>He trails his mouth further up her thigh that he previously has, sucking on the skin right next to where he knows she wants him most. “What is it that you want, Clarke?” </p><p> </p><p>“Your mouth,” she gets out.</p><p> </p><p>“Here?” he says, and kisses the soft skin of the inside of her thigh again.</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “Fuck, Bellamy, you know what I want so just give it to me.”</p><p> </p><p>He sits back and looks up at her and her eyes widen a little at the sight of him between her legs. She swallows thickly. He watches as her throat bobs with it and gets a satisfied smirk on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna have to ask more nicely than that,” he replies. </p><p> </p><p>She huffs, but then squeezes her eyes shut and tells him, “Put your mouth on me, I need it.” When he still doesn’t move, she places a leg across his shoulder and tries to drag him closer with her heel. “<em>P</em><em>lease</em>.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s only then, with that last word coming out like a plea from her, that he complies and puts his mouth to work. Sucking at her clit, he works his fingers inside her, hitting the sensitive spot over and over. He crooks them again and loves the sounds that come from her. He’ll give as much as he can. As much as she needs. </p><p> </p><p>He nips at the inside of her thigh while still giving her his fingers, leaving a red mark when he pulls away that will certainly bruise. Good, he thinks. He wants to mark her up everywhere. He wants to show people how he gets her, all wanting and aching for him to fill her up and push her over the edge in the way only he can. </p><p> </p><p>She spews delicious praises as he places heated kisses on her skin before returning to working her up with his mouth. Curses, yes, a lot of those, but other things too. </p><p> </p><p>Things like, “God, you’re so good to me,” and, “Right there, fuck, yeah,” and even once, “Bellamy, I need you to—” which is promptly cut off by his tongue going flat against her. </p><p> </p><p>She comes with a low whine, deep in the back of her throat. He keeps touching her through it, letting her stutter through her come down with as much grace as he allows. When she’s back to herself, she doesn’t let him linger before she commands, “Get up here and give me your cock.”</p><p> </p><p>Standing up, he responds, “I don’t know if you want it badly enough.”</p><p> </p><p>For all of the weeks of their arrangement, Bellamy’s felt like he's never gotten the upper hand. That Clarke manages to always get ahead, and he never has a chance to even attempt to switch the dynamic. He wants to, if only to show her that she can’t <em> always </em>get what she wants. This is the perfect opportunity, he knows. He could walk away right now. Leaving her wanting and chest heaving. It would serve her right after everything. </p><p> </p><p>He knows he doesn’t have that kind of self-control, which he almost hates himself for. Almost. Because he’s all too aware of how much he wants her, too. Even if it’s only sex, and he’s sure he still hates her, more than he’s ever disliked anyone in his whole life. </p><p> </p><p>“You know I do,” she huffs out. “But if you don’t want to take care of me, then I’ll do it myself.”</p><p> </p><p>He smirks. “By all means, go for it. Though I can guarantee it won’t feel as good as me.”</p><p> </p><p>She scoffs. “Nice ego. Maybe I don’t need you, now that I think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>He gestures to her with a hand, grinning and feeling hot all over. As much as he wants to feel her, to know what it’s like to make her come apart again all because of him, there’s something he can’t resist about this. “Then show me.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke juts out her chin and meets him where he’s at in stubbornness and ego and everything he never imagined from her when he first saw her picture, years ago. Even after their first meeting, too.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” she tells him. “I always do love putting on a show, but try to control yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>He starts to roll his eyes but he’s cut off by the sight of a spark to her eyes that makes his skin flush a little. She trails a hand down her body, and he watches as she teases herself. She bites down hard on her lip, both of them staring one another down. He finds he can only let it go on for a couple of seconds before he’s on her once more. Kissing her roughly, biting down on her bottom lip and making sweet moans come from her. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s hands go to Bellamy’s belt, swiftly undoing it and then unbuttoning his jeans. He helps her push them down as long as they need, and then groans against her mouth when she gets a hand wrapped around him. She lines him up against her entrance and on the first thrust inside her, she grips so hard onto his shoulders he knows it’ll leave marks. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” she lets out. “You’re so…” She doesn’t finish the sentence though because he snaps his hips against hers, making her stutter out a breathy moan. </p><p> </p><p>Turning his head and fitting it against the crook of her neck, he keeps thrusting into her, each one somehow better than the previous. Clarke has one hand holding onto the vanity and another digging into his shoulder. Bellamy’s hands are fixed on her waist, hot and hard and feeling the soft skin there. </p><p> </p><p>He breathes out against her neck, “Baby, you feel so good.” </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t think about what the ‘baby’ means. After, he figures it’s just the moment. Getting lost in how amazing she feels. It doesn’t matter a moment later because she’s tugging him by the hair and his lips back to her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy, I need you to…” she trails off in between kisses.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me,” he says to her, his voice far more wrecked than he’d like. He wants this to be his moment for control. Giving her everything and yet nothing. Making her crave him in ways that undo the power dynamic she’s been intent on maintaining since the day they met. He wants her to beg for him, to <em> need </em> him. </p><p> </p><p>“Put your fingers on my clit,” she tells him.</p><p> </p><p>“Why should I?” Bellamy challenges, not willing to give into her in the slightest bit. </p><p> </p><p>“Because I need it,” she replies.</p><p> </p><p>He stares her down, and gives her a rough thrust which makes her eyes flutter. “Come on, just give it to me,” she whines.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke huffs, “Please give it to me. You’re the only one who can.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s those words that threaten to send him over the edge. He swallows thickly. “Well, who am I to deny a Princess when she begs for it.”</p><p> </p><p>She starts to protest that he hasn’t done anything yet, but it’s cut off when he pulls her closer by the waist and gives her a rough kiss. He runs a hand down her body, giving her breasts, still in her lacy bra, a squeeze as he does. She huffs but he doesn’t fasten his movements. He takes his time, teasing her at first once more before finally giving her what she wants. What, in her own words, she needs from him. </p><p> </p><p>As he presses his thumb on her clit, he thrusts into her once more. It takes another few moments, but then she’s tripping over the edge with a guttural moan in the back of her throat. He holds on as long as he can, working her through her orgasm until he comes crashing into one of his own. </p><p> </p><p>They take some time to clean up after, and he finds he doesn’t want to immediately make fun of her for how he made her fall apart. How he managed to force her to plead with him to give her what she wanted. </p><p> </p><p>It only lasts the time it takes for them to get redressed. </p><p> </p><p>“So, you <em> need </em>me, huh?” he asks, delighted. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off,” she responds. “It was sex. It doesn’t count.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts. “I’m pretty sure it counts, sweetheart. Especially when it comes to sex, actually.”</p><p> </p><p>She crosses her arms over her chest and he tries not to think about how good she looks without her dress on. Of course, Clarke picks up on that right away, and grins. </p><p> </p><p>She’s unbearably smug when she says around her smile, “It seems I’m not the only one who <em> needs</em>.” </p><p> </p><p>“Now you fuck off,” he responds, flippant, trying to get rid of the annoyance that sparks between them now that they aren’t making each other fall apart. </p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head, still grinning, like she’s the triumphant one even though he had her begging for him to give her what she needed minutes ago. It makes him hate her even more. “I think you already managed to do the first part.”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t have a chance to keep arguing with her because they’re cut off by her phone ringing from where Clarke put it on the vanity. Bellamy glances at it before he can stop himself, and wishes he didn’t when he sees who’s calling. The contact that flashes on the screen reads: Mom—Do Not Answer. He doesn’t get it at first, but Clarke’s face goes all pained at the sight of it. It’s an expression he’s never seen from her before. Like she might burst into tears. He isn’t sure what to do, and in the end, he doesn’t even have the opportunity to do anything. Which he only regrets later on, when he’s lying in his bed that night. Quickly, she picks up the phone and hits decline. </p><p> </p><p>“See you out there,” she shoots over her shoulder, before he can even ask what that was about, leaving Bellamy more confused about her than ever. </p><hr/><p>Clarke tries to hold off Josie from figuring out what happened between her and Bellamy last night, but eventually, she figures it out. By eventually, she means as soon as the stragglers have stumbled out of the house and Bellamy and Gabriel leave to get coffee. </p><p> </p><p>“You fucked him, didn’t you,” she says to Clarke as they make themselves Bloody Marys.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke almost drops the bottle of hot sauce she’s holding. “What are you talking about?” she asks, playing dumb but knowing that it’s already useless.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god,” Josephine says, voice flat. Then she gets this delighted look on her face. Far more than Clarke thinks is necessary. Like it’s freaking Christmas. “You totally fucked your fake boyfriend!”</p><p> </p><p>She rolls her eyes and then looks away from her, unable to meet her eye now that the truth is out. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like it meant anything. It was just hate sex, we both know I’m no stranger to <em> that </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“So it was good?” is her follow-up. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke waves a hand. “It was…” She gives up and admits, “Fuck, okay, yeah, it was amazing. The shit he does with his tongue?” She finds herself smirking. “I mean, I gave as good as he did, but...Yeah, it was the best I’ve had in years.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes are alight with pride and some kind of satisfaction. “Godammit, Clarke, you really went all out, didn’t you?” She goes on, “I think I really underestimated the two of you. I thought, maybe, he’d get a blow job out of you after a couple months, but full on sex after only a couple of weeks? Genius.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not,” Clarke insists. “It doesn’t matter because it doesn’t change <em> anything </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Diyoza is gonna kill you!” Josie says, still thrilled. Clarke thinks about throttling her. She might be her best friend, but that doesn’t mean she’s above taking her out if she needs to when it comes down to it. </p><p> </p><p>“No, she isn’t,” she insists. “Because she is never going to find out.” She gives her a hard stare and raises a brow, tempting Josephine to argue. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine raises her hands in defense. “Very well. I guess I just can’t believe you slept with Bellamy before I even so much as kissed Gabriel for real.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke cuts her a look. “It’s not like I planned it. Besides, why would you kiss Gabriel ‘for real’?” she almost demands.</p><p> </p><p>As much as she knows she has absolutely no right to question it, she can’t help but be nervous about Josie’s comment. If she’s been planning to hook up with Gabriel, maybe since the beginning, then that means they might actually be getting along. Or, at least, aren’t feuding as much as her and Bellamy, and look where that ended up last night. There’s nothing more horrifying to her than the idea that she might actually <em> like </em>him. She knows this is just business to the guys, and as much as she knows Josephine can handle herself, Clarke doesn’t want her getting hurt, and if she gets involved with Gabriel in any kind of way that isn’t entirely fake, she knows how likely that is to happen. </p><p> </p><p>Josephine merely shrugs in reply. “He’s hot, I’m hot. I figured it would happen eventually.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t buy it though, there’s something in the way she starts mixing their drinks, avoiding Clarke’s eye.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously,” Clarke says. “Do you...I mean, how is it working between you two?”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine doesn’t look at her when she responds, “It’s fine. You know, of course, we hate each other or whatever. But it’s…” She takes a breath. “It’s not awful.”</p><p> </p><p>If her previous words made Clarke afraid for her friend, it’s nothing compared to this tidbit of information. It’s not so much what she says, but rather, <em> how </em>she says it. The way her voice gets a little pitchy and she can’t look at her while she gets out the words. Though she might not be acknowledging it herself, she can detect that her and Gabriel are closer than she ever imagined they could be, certainly, they’re closer than her and Bellamy. Even though they're the ones who’ve actually had sex. It doesn’t make any sense to her. Before, when they first met them, they both were so intent on making them as uncomfortable as possible. They were in it as a team. Now, Clarke feels lost without her partner in crime. Like she’s already lost the war even though they haven’t even started to fight in earnest. </p><p> </p><p>The very idea that things are “not awful” between Josephine and Gabriel makes Clarke need a stiff drink, and the only thing she’s grateful for this morning is that they’re currently making some. </p><p> </p><p>She forces herself to play nonchalant. Like she doesn’t even care. Even though she knows she couldn’t care any more. It’s disturbing and upsetting and makes her want to party even though it isn’t even noon. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Not awful.” Clarke snorts. “A glowing review of the man you’re meant to be in love with.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine throws a bit of celery at her. “Shut up, bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>Once they’re drinking, Clarke hoists herself up on the counter, finding her body swore in the best ways. Which makes her think about how good last night was, as she really wasn’t lying when she told Josie that it was the best she’d had in years. She kicks her legs back and forth and feels Josephine staring her down. Ignoring her for a moment, she finally gives in, rolling her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Just say whatever you’re thinking, already,” she says.</p><p> </p><p>She takes a long pull from her drink. For a couple brief, wonderful seconds, she thinks she won’t say anything else, but then she does. </p><p> </p><p>“Abby called me again this morning.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sucks at her teeth. “She called me last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine nods. “I spoke to her.”</p><p> </p><p>That makes Clarke’s head snap up and, to Josie’s credit, she does look guilty about it. “I didn’t mean to, I had just woken up and figured it was Diyoza or Murphy ended up in San Diego again or something. We didn’t talk for long, I know you wouldn’t want that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can talk to her if you want,” she says, knowing she’s holding in a breath and hating herself for it but unable to make herself at ease. “She was your manager too, once upon a time. I know you two got close after your mom and dad died.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine flinches at the mention of her parents, and Clarke feels awful for bringing them up at all, but she did bring up her mom. They both have fucked up stories. The only difference is Clarke chose to cut her mom out. Josie didn’t have a choice. Which does make her feel like shit, most of the time, for her decision. But she knows her friend would tell her if she was truly pissed at her for it. She’s never been one to hold anything back, which is one of the reasons the two of them managed to get so close despite all the walls both of them built up around themselves. </p><p> </p><p>“I know,” she replies. “But...I don’t know, I felt weird about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke swallows. “You don’t have to. It’s okay if you want to have her in your life, you know I would never fault you for that.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine hesitates before taking a sip from her glass. She doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly isn’t her asking, “Do you really think you’ll never talk to her again?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke isn’t sure she’s had enough to drink for this conversation. Especially this early in the morning. Then again, she knows she <em> never </em>wants to have this conversation. Hence Josie treading so carefully with the topic. In their years of their friendship, they’ve only had half a dozen fights, and all of them have had to do with Abby. Clarke wants to rid her mind of her mom, to pretend like she never even had one. Last night threw her off, getting her call with Bellamy there. She knows he saw the look on her face, and hates what he could possibly think about the situation. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know.” Clarke breathes out a heavy sigh. “I want to, sometimes. But then I think...Everything got so fucked up between us. I might blame her when I’m drunk and sappy and annoying,” Josephine tries to interrupt her, probably to tell her she is many things except annoying, but she presses on, “but I know I played just as much of a part in what happened as her.” </p><p> </p><p>“Is it the trust thing?” Josephine asks. “Because, honestly, I get not wanting to trust her again, but you can have her in your life regardless of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not just that,” Clarke’s voice wavers and she hates it and wishes the situation could be anything else besides what it is, what it’s become. “I ruined things, and I don’t see how she could ever forgive me for the things I did. The things I said, too.”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her, half in disbelief, which Clarke’s sympathetic to but can’t understand why they’re still talking about this when both of them know it won’t do any good. “She’s your mom, Clarke. I think moms can forgive a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke huffs out before really thinking it through, “Why are even discussing this? We both know it’ll only go in circles. It’s been three years, Josephine. What makes you think we could ever come back from what happened between us?”</p><p> </p><p>To her relief, Josephine backs off. “You’re right,” she says. “I didn’t mean to...Hell, you know why I bring it up. If I could talk to my mom, you know I wouldn’t hesitate. Even if things weren’t always perfect between us. Abby is Abby, and I know that it’s been hard with her, but I care about you, okay? I don’t want you to feel like shit about it.” She runs a hand over her forehead. “I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke takes a while to form a reply. It’s so much, this admission. She knows in her gut she’ll never deserve Josephine. That she gives so much of herself even though people think she gives nothing. It amazes her how people underestimate her. It also doesn’t feel real, that she can have someone in her life who cares about her this much to the extent that she wants her to have anything she needs or wants. Clarke knows she doesn’t deserve it, not in the least, but it does still feel good to have someone like Josie in her life. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she manages. “I know I’m not good at this, so just...Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Josephine waves a hand, like it’s nothing, and the tense moment is alleviated almost immediately. All the awful mix of confusing emotions go out of the room. Clarke feels like she can breathe again. </p><p> </p><p>“Now,” Josie goes on. “Tell me all about how good your hate sex was.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs, dry, but is grateful for the distraction, and launches into it, making Josephine laugh her ass off half the time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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